


Help From God

by turianosauruswrex



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angels, Angst, Gen, Post-Canon, hoo boy this is self-indulgent as HELL, never fear they are short chapters, short and punchy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 24,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13128186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turianosauruswrex/pseuds/turianosauruswrex
Summary: In 2284, Jules McAllister-- demigod, failed mafia leader, Caesar's courier-- finds herself carrying more guilt on her shoulders than she knows what to do with. A mysterious figure appears in her dreams offering aid and she finds herself confiding in him and trusting him, though it may not be in her-- or anyone's-- best interest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the same supernatural AU, created by tumblr users powerfisto, randamhajile and myself, as in All The Devils Are Here and Damned If You Do. Basically Jules McAllister, Courier Six, is a powerful witch/demigod, daughter of New Reno's Mr. Bishop, and she did many, many horrible things in the name of Caesar's Legion before reforming thanks to her friend Lexington, a monster hunter-turned-vampire. With the addition of Joshua Graham, the Burned Man possessed by...some kind of powerful entity, Jules is attempting to rebuild her life and move on from her past, with little to no success thus far. It's EXTREMELY self-indulgent and I love it. Please enjoy my terrible OC's suffering.
> 
> also each part is very short, this was intentional

Great job, Jules, you've done it again, drowning your problems in liquor and whoever took you home with them tonight.

She knows it's not real-- the howling wind and biting cold, the scarlet stain spreading across her bare skin-- but that's not much of a comfort any more than any of her other dreams have been. Since leaving New Reno her subconscious has not been kind to her. But this is the worst it's been yet, dropping her alone in darkness with no protection against the Utah winter but her underwear. Her stubby nails scratch up and down her arms til they're raw, trying to scrape off what she's done. But it can't be that easy; sweat and cheap cologne have seeped deep into her skin and when Lex catches that scent it'll just be another holier-than-thou lecture-- from the vampire with less than no room to talk-- til Jules wants to pierce her own eardrums.

Someone's watching; the pitch black means she can't see who but she can feel eyes on her, peeling and prying away. She draws her knees to her chest, burying her face in them. “I'm sorry-- I'm sorry, I'm sorry...just leave me alone, please…”

A soft, warm blanket falls over her shaking shoulders; she clutches at it desperately and pulls it to cover her chest.

“Oh, Julia…” Whoever it is rests a hand on her back, gently stroking up and down. She lifts her head to see a man kneeling before her, glowing enough to illuminate the space around them: her father, in a plain, dark suit-- no gold cufflinks, no half-cocked hat, so much less ostentatious than the last time she saw him. What's he doing here, in this nightmare, she hasn't heard from him in weeks; why...doesn't his voice sound right; where's his cocky accent? Why are his eyes the same piercing, electric blue as Graham's?

“It's alright, Julia, I'm here.” He pulls her close into a warm hug. “And I'm not going anywhere. You'll be alright. Everything's going to be alright.”

If this is Silas what does he _want?_ If this is Graham, well, why would he look like _Silas?_ If this is _neither_ \--

She doesn't care.

Just as Jules relaxes and starts to lean into his embrace, all the shame and fear melting away, her eyes snap open to an unfamiliar room, illuminated by moonlight filtered through thin curtains. Whoever's next to her-- _god,_ she can't even remember his _name--_ is sound asleep, not that she thinks he'd be concerned were he awake. The warmth from the dream fades as she dresses and gathers her things to go home, and with it the relief and familiarity the figure had given her. Just a dream, that's all it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules goes home.

Jules blinks awake groggy and shivering from a breeze to constellations she hasn't bothered to look for in years. With one hand she tries to rub her headache away and pulls her jacket closed around her with the other as she takes in the view: mountain silhouettes far away over empty desert, long-quiet train tracks, the flickering eye of the Mojave Drive-In.

God, what is she doing  _ back _ here?

She draws herself up, holds her knees to her chest for warmth and waits. For the sound of her mother's voice to call her back inside, or for one of the others telling her to get down from there, reminding her if she doesn't work she doesn't eat, but nothing happens. The breeze rustles dead tree branches and the downed satellite whirrs faintly in the distance, but for now, Nipton is still. Unusually, eerily... _ frighteningly _ still.

Jules turns, easing onto her stomach, and makes her way to the peak of the roof to get a look at the town behind her. It's  _ never _ been this quiet, not even the last times she was here-- as the only survivor of Vulpes’ massacre by sheer chance and, a year later, as a ghost summoned in the empty shell of her house, the closest thing to life Nipton had seen since Vulpes sunk his teeth into it. 

The town below her isn't just still-- it's  _ dead _ . Dead, but with no scars left from Vulpes’ bite. No crosses lining Main Street, no piles of charred corpses, no Legion crimson in sight. No sign anything had happened. The people of Nipton just... disappeared.

Jules slides back down to face the Drive-In again. Is this supposed to be  _ comforting?  _ Is her subconscious providing her with something familiar to give her an anchor, remind her of her past? Well she doesn't need  _ that  _ reminder, thank you very much, she's  _ well _ aware of who she was and is.

“Julia?”

The satellite blinks out.

Jules leans over the edge of the roof to look at who's calling her-- the smooth, resonant voice, she knows it, it's--

It's Not-Silas. Her father's form with the Burned Man's eyes, smiling up at her.

“Mind if I join you?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He just keeps appearing, doesn't he?

There he is again, just off shore on the floating dock at Cottonwood Cove. Even from this distance Jules can tell it's him; who  _ else _ would go to the beach in a full suit? This is third time in as many weeks he's appeared in her dreams; obviously he wants something, whoever he is, but he can come  _ ask _ her for it. He's the one appearing in her dreams, after all.

She turns to point him out to her mother but Eliza is nowhere to be found.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules finally talks with her visitor.

“Don't let the sun go down on your anger,” huh? Bull _ shit, _ she'll stay angry as long as she wants. How  _ dare _ Lex try to tell her how to live her life, how  _ dare _ she act so high and mighty when she's just so  _ goddamn pushy! _

Jules snaps her fingers and hurls a fireball through a window of the abandoned warehouse she's found herself in; glass crashes to the ground in a satisfying, deafening cacophony as she prepares another flame.

_ 'Stop drinkin’ so much!’ 'Get rid of those chems!’ _ “Oh, like  _ you  _ wouldn't do the same to cope if you could!”

**_CRASH!_ **

_ 'One of these days yer gonna fuck a demon, Jules, and then yer gonna end up pregnant with a demon child, and who are you gonna come cryin’ to fer help? ME, that's who!’ _ “You think I'm stupid?! You think I haven't done this song and dance before?! Years whoring myself out in Nipton have to have taught me SOMETHING, right?!”

**_CRASH!_ **

_ 'If you keep up like this, yer gonna wind up killing yerself!’ _ “God, I fucking WISH!”

**_CRASH!_ **

Jules stomps her foot, sending a ripple through the ground and throwing metal oil barrels into the air where she strikes them with a barrage of lightning bolts and they burst into flames, crashing back down and igniting the whole building. The fire stops just past her arm's reach and rings around her as she sinks to the floor, panting. Lex doesn't get it, she just  _ doesn't _ get it; how  _ could  _ she understand what Jules went through, what she did, the sheer magnitude of it?

“Julia?”

She turns her head and Not-Silas is sitting right next to her, electric blue eyes watching her so delicately, so compassionately. “What…” She wipes tears from her eyes. “What do you want?”

“I don't  _ want _ anything.” He takes her hand in his, his grip gentle and warm. “I'm sorry, Julia. I'm sorry for the tribulations you've suffered, but if it brings you comfort you're not alone anymore. I'm here.”

Jules starts to snap back at him, but at his touch all the pain and anger drains from her body, leaving her simply exhausted as the flames around them die. She looks him in the eye and sighs. “Who  _ are  _ you?”

He smiles back at her and squeezes her hand. “A friend.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step closer to knowing who, exactly, this dream figure is.

Jules wakes to a crackling campfire in a breezy desert night, thousands and thousands of stars overhead. God she's missed this; Mojave nights are chilly but not unbearable, unlike the bone-deep cold of New Zion with snow past her knees and more every day until spring. As much opportunity and stability as she has in Zion, part of her will always be in the Mojave.

Funny thing is, she can't remember how she got here.

She squints up at the stars again, looking for something familiar: the animals, the monsters, the warriors her mother told her about as a child, but they're gone. The patterns in these stars are meaningless to her, just like...just like when she was dead.

Jules bolts upright, heart and mind racing-- how had she died again?! Had she never been resurrected after all?! Had all those years in Reno and Zion been her mind finally breaking from the isolation?! No, this can't be happening, this can't be, it can't--

Not-Silas looks up from tending the campfire at her and smiles. “It's good to see you again, Julia.”

Jules just stares, silent.

“Would you like some tea?” He picks up a kettle and metal mug and offers it towards her, but she shakes her head slowly. “I...suppose you have some questions.”

She nods. “Am I…”

“No” he chuckles. “No, you're very much alive, I promise. It's just a dream, like how we've met before.”

She nods again, a weight lifted off her chest. “That's good.” Their eyes meet, her head tilted curiously at his unwavering smile. “So...why are you  _ here? _ ”

“As I said before, I'm a friend.” He moves around the fire to her side. “All those times you needed comfort..it was me. All those times you were sad, or alone, or angry, I was there. And I'll keep being there for you, Julia, I'll be keeping an eye on you from now on.” 

She shakes her head again, frowning. “Who  _ are _ you?”

He places his hand on her shoulder. “You know who I am...I'm much closer than you think, Julia.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

His smile widens. “Joshua was born with brown eyes.”

Jules jolts awake, heart still pounding, to the clanging bells of her alarm clock, Not-Silas’s final words echoing in her head.

_ Brown eyes… _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinners with Lexington and Joshua Graham are suddenly very, very uncomfortable.

“You okay, Jules?” Lex's stare has been fixed on her ever since she arrived at Graham's house for her daily report-slash-mandatory socialization. Of course Lex can sense something's wrong, of course she can.

Jules gulps down another drink of water, quickly lowering her gaze from Graham's face. “Uh, yeah, I'm-- everything's fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Uh-huh.” Lex doesn't lift her stare.

“I promise.”

“You've barely touched your food, Julia.” 

Graham's words startle her into looking up at him again-- at those vivid blue eyes, the same ones the figure in her dreams has, the same gentleness and concern…

She looks away again, halfheartedly poking at the meal Lex cooked for her and Graham. “Oh, um. I’m not. I’m not very hungry, my stomach, you know, it’s a little upset. Just work stress, is all. Lots...to do…” She coughs and sneaks another glance at Graham, hoping he doesn’t notice. He probably does. “Um. I’m almost done planning the telegraph wires, so. Once we get the supplies those will be ready...to go…”

Graham’s still looking at her, more worried now than she’s seen him before. God, she can’t do this anymore, not right now, not with those  _ dreams _ .

Jules pushes her chair back from the table and swipes her jacket off the back, heading for the door without a glance backwards. “Um, I’m really not feeling well, I think I should just go and...lie down, but th-thanks for the food, Lex, I really appreciate it. See you tomorrow.”

“Jules, wait a minute--”

She shuts the door behind her before Lex can say any more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules knows who he is.

The sun streams over the hills, warm and golden, not a cloud to obscure it, and a gentle spring breeze drifts through the lawn behind New Zion’s main temple, blowing the skirt of Jules’ white sundress around her knees. Save for birds chirping softly in the trees, the city is perfectly quiet-- not the same eerie stillness as Nipton, more peaceful, as though everyone's still asleep.

A few yards away from her sits Not-Silas on a red and white checkered blanket with a large basket, waving to her to join him. Like the picnics she's had with Lex and Graham, only those of course have to be on overcast days. She walks over and joins him, smoothing her dress as she sits and takes the sarsaparilla he offers.

“I'm glad you could join me, Julia,” he says with that ever-present smile.

“Well, it is  _ my _ dream.” She takes a sip of the soda. “You're the one joining me, aren't you?”

He laughs. “I suppose that is fair. Still, it's good to see you again.”

“Mhm.” Jules lets her gaze drift over to his face, finally settling and making eye contact. “I know who you are now.”

“You do?” His smile wavers, just for a moment, but he leans back nonchalant.

She nods. “You're Joshua's angel. The one who possessed-- who _saved_ him after Caesar tried to execute him.”

His smile widens, practically beaming at her. “Of course I am. My name is Azrael-- 'Help from God.’” He takes her hands in his and squeezes them gently. “I've been watching over you, Julia. Ever since we met in Zion Canyon, I've had my eye on you.”

“A guardian angel, huh?” Tears start to well up in her eyes, but she blinks them back with a little chuckle. “Just like the stories we heard as kids. Guess Joshua was right, someone is looking out for me up there after all.”

Azrael laughs and leans closer to her. “Of course there is, Julia. God would never abandon you. And it's about time you had a guardian angel, wouldn't you say?”

Jules nods, a shadow slowly falling across her face. “But...why now? Why not before, before...everything?”

Azrael sighs. “Trust me, Julia, it pains me as much as it does you that I wasn't able to intervene before now. When we met in Zion I could feel all the anger, and fear, and pain you held, roiling in your soul. But we had such little time together, Joshua was so focused on the White Legs, that I couldn't...but Julia, listen to me. Sometimes...sometimes you must fall before you can be picked up again. I had to let you fall, and words cannot express how much I regret it.”

He'd known about her? He'd been there the entire time, every time she met Graham and he'd done nothing? The misery he could have spared her, the  _ lives _ he could have saved-- but Jules can't muster up the rage to tell him off. He's an angel, right? If he says he couldn't do anything, whether by divine order or...or a stubborn host, she can believe him…

“At least…” she says, wiping her eyes, “at least you're here now. I'm really glad you are.” She offers a smile back at him, strengthened by seeing his own return.

Azrael pulls her close and hugs her tight, rubbing her back. “Yes, I'm here, Julia, and I'll be watching out for you from now on. You're going to be alright.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies are in order.

Her next meal at Graham's starts as a long, unbearable silence, broken only by the sound of spoon against bowl as Graham methodically scoops up the night's dinner. Jules doesn't lift her eyes from her soup. Lex doesn't move hers from Jules.

After what feels like hours of soft _clink, clink, clink_ ing Jules finally breaks, balling her fists on the table. “Lex, I'm...I'm sorry I ran out on you guys last time.”

Lex nods, her face softening slightly. “What happened, Jules? Did we do somethin’ t’set you off?”

“No, it wasn't--” That's not entirely true, though, is it; it _is_ Graham who has those eyes, who's housing the angel visiting her dreams. “It was my fault,” Jules corrects, “I was just nervous and upset, you know, dealing with so many people here, it...it takes some getting used to. I should have told you I was burnt out, I'm sorry.”

She feels her cheeks redden with the words. Apologies still aren't her forte, never have been.

“I understand, Julia.” Graham's voice draws her attention, her eyes once again landing on his but holding his gaze longer than before-- is Azrael watching now, too?

“We should have realized the stress you've been under,” he continues, “especially me. My people are generous, but have a tendency to be...overbearing.”

Jules bites back a snort.

“We're real glad yer back, though, Jules,” Lex finishes, smiling at her with a tilt of her head. “You finally settlin’ in okay?”

Azrael's parting words play in her head again: _I'll be watching out for you from now on. You're going to be alright._ She nods, brushing hair back from her face. “Yeah. I've started to...not feel so alone anymore.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azrael gets curious about Jules' family.

“Azrael!” Jules looks up from her work at the sound of his footsteps, beaming. “You came back!”

“Of course I did, Julia,” he chuckles. “And I've been watching out for you even when we haven't spoken, but I wanted to talk with you tonight.”

Jules frowns and sets her tools on her workbench. “Why? What's wrong?”

“Oh!” He shakes his head. “Nothing's _wrong_ _,_ I'm sorry to worry you; I just...wanted to talk. I'm curious about you, Julia.”

About her? What would an angel want to know about her that it hadn't already learned? “Why's that?”

“Joshua is...fond of you. As is Jessica.” He laughs again at her start at hearing Lex's given name. “I can't help but pick up their ways. What are you working on?” He nods towards the scrap metal lying on the workbench.

“Oh, um.” For the first time Jules takes in the project the dream’s given her, and though she had no memory of beginning it the steps come flooding back. “It looks like a...I’m building a plasma rifle from scratch. I've always been good at fixing them-- til I got shot, anyway-- and I've wanted to try building one for years.”

Azrael peeks over her shoulder at the bits of metal. “Certainly better than I could do. You've repaired them before?”

“Yeah, all the time back in Nipton. My mom used this stuff to keep me out of trouble. Not that I didn't still get into plenty.”

Azrael chuckles again. “Dare I ask what kind?”

Jules hesitates. “...A lot. Up til the day I got out of town.” She clears her throat and picks up her tools again. “But my mom did her best-- she was only sixteen when I was born, you know-- but...she did everything she could. She left New Reno without even telling my father she was pregnant because it was better to just disappear somewhere he couldn’t-- or wouldn’t-- come looking for us. Hid us from criminals, witch hunters...even sold her soul to a demon to protect me.”

“Oh.” He places a hand on her shoulder, his voice suddenly much softer. “Julia, I’m...I’m so sorry.”

She lets out a measured breath and turns to face him, blinking back a few tears. “It’s fine. Been about six, seven years or so, I don’t really think about it that often anymore.” As soon as the words leave her mouth she’s mentally kicking herself for them; he’s an _angel,_ Jules, you can’t fucking _lie_ to him like this. Especially not your damn _guardian_ angel, _Christ._ “I mean. I do, but. Everything that’s happened since then kind of...I don’t know. Overwhelmed it. But sometimes out of nowhere I just remember that she’s in _Hell_ because of me and--”

“Julia.” Azrael takes her hands in his, looks her square in the eyes. “What happened to your mother was not your fault. She made her decisions. She knew exactly what she was doing, the consequences of her choices, and she chose this path regardless, because she  _loved_ you. I have no doubt that given the opportunity she would make those same choices again.”

Jules snorts. “You never saw Nipton.”

“Regardless. I’m glad she did.” He offers a small smile. “If not, our paths never would have crossed. Everything that’s happened, for better or worse, has led to our meeting, Julia, and I _know_ it was God’s hand that brought us together.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone made a mistake.

The next time Azrael visits her dreams, a few days later, she finds him pacing back and forth in Lex’s house, lighting for a moment on a chair or a sofa but never staying still long. When he sees her he’s visibly relieved, bringing her into a quick, tight hug before holding her at arms’ length again. “Thank God you’re here, Julia, I was so worried.”

“Worried?” She shakes her head. “What for? You’re the one visiting _my_ dreams; shouldn’t you know if I’m alright or not?”

“No, nothing like that.” He settles on the couch and pats the cushion beside him for her to join. “Julia...I was afraid I lost you.”

“What?!”

He bites his knuckle, avoiding eye contact. “I neglected to inform you, last time we spoke. There are...conditions to my presence here.”

Jules sinks down next to him on the couch, shaking her head again. “What kind of conditions?”

“Well, one condition. If you had broken it, even ignorant of it...I wouldn’t be allowed to speak with you anymore.”

“What _condition_ _,_ Azrael?”

He sighs. “It’s common knowledge for angels, one of the original rules God laid out for us; I mistakenly assumed you would know and I’m deeply sorry for putting you at risk. When we speak with humans like this, they’re strictly forbidden from telling others of their experience. It’s a test of faith-- God is kind of fond of them, you know.”

Jules frowns deeper. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly that. We must be certain of things, regardless of whether or not others believe us.” Azrael looks over at her sheepishly. “You mustn’t tell anyone we’ve been talking. Not even Jessica or Joshua. _Especially_ not Joshua.”

“Joshua told everyone about you. It was legendary across the Mojave what you did for him.”

“ _Exactly_. He blatantly disobeyed the Lord’s commands seeking attention and praise, Julia, and sought to make others follow in his footsteps. I’m just glad you haven’t. Ignorance is, unfortunately, no defense.”

Jules folds her hands in her lap and stares down at her feet. “So...I can’t say anything about you at all.”

“I’m afraid not.” Azrael gives her a hesitant smile. “But you just have to have a little faith in me. Will you?”

She looks up at him again and returns his smile. “Yeah. I can do that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules has daddy issues.

“What about your father?”

Jules rolls her eyes. “What _about_ him?” She takes a long drink from her beer and sets the bottle back down on the bar, angling away from Azrael.

“You’ve told me so much about your mother during my visits-- your childhood growing up with her, her gentleness, her love and sacrifice for you...where was your father in all of this?”

“New Reno.” She taps her foot on the barstool. “My mom ran away so he wouldn’t know about me. He’s...”

Azrael tilts his head, watching her. “Inadequate?”

“You could say that.” She sighs and faces him again. “He’s been leading the Bishop family in New Reno since he was a teenager. Mom never talked about him except to say he didn’t and would never know where we were. Said he was dangerous and it was better if I never met him.”

“...I see.”

“I did meet him, though, after the third time I died.” Jules takes another drink. “He resurrected me.”

“That was the first time you met him? He didn’t look for your mother when she disappeared?”

Jules shrugs. “He said he did, but he lies for a living, so. He let me stay with him and his family in Reno for a year or so after the battle in New Vegas, though. Tried to make me a Bishop. Guess that’s all I can ask for.”

“But you left.” Azrael tilts his head again. “Why would you leave your own family?”

“They weren’t--” She tightens her grip on the bottle. “I didn’t belong there. I can’t be what Silas needed me to be.”

Azrael nods, placing a hand on hers. “Julia--”

She pulls away, frowning at him as she studies his face. “Why do you look like him?”

“Why do I...” He looks down to examine his own hands, his clothes, strokes the stubble on his chin.

“You look like Silas. Why? You have to be able to choose what form you take, don’t you?” Jules’ stare locks on him, waiting.

Azrael takes a deep breath. “Of course I choose my form, Julia,” he answers, patient as ever. “But I don’t think showing you my true, angelic form is a wise idea. Humans tend to be very frightened of it." He chuckles a little to himself. "So I chose something familiar to you: your father. Of course there were many other forms I could have taken, but I chose... _Silas_ \--” he says it like it’s a word foreign to him-- “because of who he is to you. I am an envoy of God-- the greatest Father of them all. The father you _deserved,_ Julia.”

She says nothing, just watches, her brow furrowed as she processes his words.

“I won’t abandon you or neglect you, Julia,” he continues, “You don’t have to force yourself to fit anyone’s idea of what you _should_ be. Silas...Silas wanted to manipulate you, turn you into another version of him. He doesn’t think you’re good enough as you are; he believes you’re nothing if you don’t follow his idea of what you should be.”

Her frown deepens. Azrael takes her hand again.

“That’s not true, Julia. You’re _more_ than enough. You deserve a father who sees how special you truly are and who loves you regardless of the path you choose for yourself. God loves you unconditionally, Julia. _I_ love you, and I swear to you, I will _never_ do what Silas has done. You won’t be alone again.” He reaches out and wipes a tear that’s fallen down her cheek away with his thumb. “I’ll come looking for you. I’ll protect you. Did Silas ever do this for you?”

She shakes her head. Her jaw clenches but her chin still quivers.

“No, no he didn’t. You deserve better, Julia. And I promise, that’s what I’ll be for you. The father you _always_ deserved.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress.

“Jules?” Lex seems bewildered when she opens the door. “What’re you doin’ here? We’re jus’ about t’go t’service.”

Jules shifts back and forth on her feet, scratching her arm. “Yeah, um...can I go with you?”

Lex narrows her eyes. “You don’t...go t’church.”

“I wanna go today, though. Can I go with you?”

“Of course y’can, Jules, yer always welcome, but I gotta ask: why t’day?”

“I just...” She shrugs and tugs the hem of her skirt down closer to her knees. “I feel like I should. I think it’d be good for me.”

A smile breaks across Lex’s face. “Well, I’m glad t’hear it. We’re happy t’have ya, always.” She turns around and shouts into the house. “Joshua! Hurry up, we got a guest with us t’day!”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Religion.

“I’ve never been religious, Azrael. My mother wasn’t either-- I mean, we believed in gods and demons and angels and heroes and everything, but we didn’t go to church or read Bibles or anything, not like everyone in Zion does.” Jules dangles her feet off the dock into the cool water at Cottonwood Cove. “But I went to service at the temple last week with Lex and Graham and it was...it was interesting. I think I needed to go and I’m glad I did.”

“I’m happy to hear it, Julia.” With a pleasant grin, Azrael sips Nuka Cola up through a long, decoratively-twisted straw.

“The street preachers that would come through Nipton always talked about what terrible sinners we were,” she continues, “how we would burn in Hell for our gambling and whoring and violence and greed. The whole fire and brimstone number. But the bishop at the temple was different. Talking about love-- unconditional love, like you were talking about the other day.”

“Oh?”

Jules nods. “Said that God loves us all regardless of who we are and what we’ve done. We don’t need to do anything to  _ earn _ his love, we just...have it.”

“He was right.” Azrael chuckles. “I would know.”

She throws a rock out onto the river, watching as it skips across the water. “It’s strange to think about. After everything I’ve done-- especially everything I did for the Legion, you don’t even...after everything I’ve done, that someone loves me regardless.”

“Is it really?” Azrael starts ticking off names on his fingers. “Your mother did. I do, of course. Jessica.” He hesitates. “Joshua.”

Jules shakes her head. “I think they just feel sorry for me. Something about the way they look at me doesn’t feel...genuine.”

Azrael doesn’t answer her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday service.

"'Wherefore, he will preserve the righteous by his power, even if it so be that the fulness of his wrath must come, and the righteous be preserved, even unto the destruction of their enemies by fire. Wherefore, the righteous need not fear; for thus saith the prophet, they shall be saved, even if it so be as by fire.'"

Lex nudges Jules with her elbow. “Hey,” she whispers, “you okay?”

Jules nods, tearing her eyes away from Elder Pratt, pacing as he reads from his Book of Mormon at the front of the chapel. “I’m fine.”

“D’you wanna leave? No shame in that.”

"'Behold, my brethren," Pratt reads on, "I say unto you, that these things must shortly come; yea, even blood, and fire, and vapor of smoke must come; and it must needs be upon the face of this earth; and it cometh unto men according to the flesh if it so be that they will harden their hearts against the Holy One of Israel.'"

“I’m _fine,_ Lexington.” She squashes down the memories of Vulpes lashing her to a crucifix-- shuddering as he did so but still wearing a cruel, fanged grin all the while-- the crackling fire at her feet and the horrible, acrid smell of her own flesh burning as she gagged on the smoke before Death mercifully granted her unconsciousness as they took her hand. They’d told her when they met that the dead were relieved of the memories of their ends, but apparently that doesn’t apply to her anymore, back in the land of the living.

Jules shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t need Lexington’s _pity_ any more than she needs an inhaler of jet-- though, come to think of it, that does sound nice...

No. No, she’s fine. She’s not going to disappoint Azrael.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ides of March.

March 15th. It's been years but the date's seared into her memory for good.

Azrael meets her in the lobby of the Lucky 38. “What are we doing here, Julia?”

“There's a memory I want to show you.” Her flat tone matches her expression as she leads him into the elevator.

“I've died four times, Azrael. Once when Benny shot me. Twice at Vulpes’ hand. And once I did myself in.” She stares ahead at the doors as they shut. “This is one of them.”

Azrael nods, but says nothing, just waits for her to explain.

The elevator doors slide open again with a cheerful _ding!_ and Jules leads him out into the penthouse, to a balcony above a large, furred throne in front of smashed computer screens and consoles. A bald man lounges in the throne, flanked by two praetorian guards and a frumentarius--

“That’s Vulpes,” Jules whispers, pointing down at the frumentarius, then to the bald man. “And that’s Caesar.”

Azrael looks at her, but her eyes stay locked on the Legion below.

“And there’s me.”

He follows her finger to another version of her, kneeling before Caesar with a machete strapped across her back. The words exchanged between the two are too quiet to make out, at least from up on the balcony, so Jules starts down the stairs and waves for Azrael to follow.

“This was just after the Legion won Hoover Dam and took Vegas,” Jules says, “and it was because of me. I set up the dominos and knocked them over. All of that that happened...it’s my fault. Because Caesar promised me honor. And glory. And _belonging_.”

Memory-Jules bolts to her feet as they approach and stop a few feet away, but she and the rest of the Legion are oblivious to their observers. She protests, her frantic words making no sound and earning a wide smile from Caesar despite her obvious distress. When she makes a start towards him his smile drops and the praetorians lunge forward, seizing her by the arms.

“But he never delivered,” Jules continues, unable to look away. “I asked him when he would, and he just laughed at me. Said I was a fool for believing him and that there was no place for women in the Legion. I tried to argue and...my temper got the best of me and it just made him even more mad.” She blinks back tears as Caesar examines her memory self. “And you know the last thing he ever said to me?”

Azrael reads the same words on Caesar’s lips as force their way out of Jules’, strangled and faint:

“Burn her.”

A wicked grin flashes across Vulpes’ face as Memory-Jules’ falls in shock and she tries to break free of the praetorians’ grip, to no avail. Jules herself bows her head, her eyes screwed shut, and the scene changes to the outskirts of New Vegas, in the dead of night. She and Azrael stand before a crucifix, the city lights shining bright behind it, casting it in silhouette.

“I trusted him, Azrael,” she whispers. “I did _more_ than trust him-- I loved him, like he was my own father. He was the first person to ever offer me what I wanted, he promised me so _much_...it wasn’t just about having a rank in the Legion or getting revenge on the NCR for leaving Nipton to die. He promised me a family. I held him so high, put him on a pedestal, even after I realized he was lying about being the son of Mars. I didn’t care. I still looked up to him and did anything he asked of me.”

“Julia--”

“ _Anything_ , Azrael. I killed innocents for him.” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “I launched nuclear missiles at the NCR in Caesar’s name. I sentenced countless people to horrible, agonizing deaths and destroyed an entire nation, all in a matter of _seconds_ . Because I thought it would make him _love_ me.”

Azrael waits. Takes a breath himself. “Julia...”

She looks up at him, eyes shiny and trembling. “I can’t do this again. I can’t make the same mistake again, Azrael.”

He sighs and kneels in front of her. “I know, Julia.” His voice stays soft and gentle as his touch on her shoulders, bringing her down closer to eye level. “I’ve always known.”

“Of course you have,” she mumbles.

“Of course I have.” He tilts her face up towards his. “And it doesn’t change anything. I still love you. _God_ still loves you. I _promise_ you, God still loves you, regardless of what you’ve done.”

Jules grasps at words just out of her reach, stammering syllables as tears stream openly down her cheeks. How-- why-- it’s not-- she’s not--

She buries her face in Azrael’s shirt, finally sobbing like she hasn’t since her mother’s death, shoulders heaving as Azrael puts his arms around her and holds her tight.

“It’s alright, Julia, I’m here.” He strokes her back, keeping his voice low. “This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it.”

She nods. “I just-- I was so-- alone, Az-- rael, I-- I couldn’t-- I can’t--”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.”

“I made so many-- mistakes-- I fucked up so _bad_ \--”

“I know.”

“Everything I’ve done-- it’s--”

“It doesn’t make you unworthy of God’s love, Julia, or mine.”

Jules hugs him tighter, trying to steady her breaths. “I haven’t...I haven’t even told Lexington or-- or Joshua about this. They know I was Legion but not...they don’t know how I thought of Caesar. I can’t tell them. They wouldn’t understand.”

Azrael nods. “No, they wouldn’t. How could they? They’ve strayed so far, but unlike you they’ve made no effort to repent. They choose instead to...to bask in their sin, with no signs of regret. But you, Julia...” He looks down at her again, the rising sun illuminating her face and the charred crucifix before them-- no corpse or bones in sight, just a pile of ash at its base. “You’re seeking redemption. And as slow a journey as it is, you’re well on your way.”

She meets his eyes, brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

He smiles at her, tilting his head. “Because you’re more than your mistakes, Julia. I know you are. And an angel wouldn’t lie to you.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contemplation.

They don't get it. They really don't get it, do they?

Jules stares at her barely touched pint glass, as disinterested in it as anyone else here is in her. Alcohol hasn't been helping much-- not since Azrael showed up. In fact, talking to Azrael has been the  _ only _ thing that's helped. She can drink as much as she wants, inhale as many chems, sleep with as many strangers, but the guilt and shame always wind up creeping back to her, carrying reminders of what she came from and who she was.

But Azrael. Azrael listens, Azrael comforts, Azrael understands. Lexington and Graham  _ don't  _ get it; how could they? How could they understand the depths she sunk to or the desperation she felt? They've always had something to cling to-- family or faith or whatever-- but Jules, for years and years, had had nothing. Nothing that lasted. Everything got taken away eventually, from her mother to her job to the Legion to her family in Reno. Everything except Azrael.

He isn't going to die on her. And angels can't lie about promises they make, so he can't abandon her because it's “inconvenient.” Azrael promised he would be her family, always be there for her, and he has been.

If Graham knew…

Jules sips at her beer. If Graham finds out she's been talking to his angel, she'll never hear the end of it. He's so...cagey about it. Never lets anyone speak to it, never lets it speak itself. Everyone just has to take his word on it, that he was  _ blessed  _ instead of trapping Azrael with him forever after Azrael saved his life. Angels can't just stay with humans indefinitely; Lanius’ possession and ultimate, explosive death by the Horseman War had been proof enough of that. Even demons only keep their person suits long enough to have a little fun.

So why would Joshua trap an  _ angel? _ Especially an angel that's expressed over and over it just wants to go home? You don't just  _ do _ that without a reason. It has to be draining him day in and day out keeping himself composed, even with the binding runes on his bandages. What kind of selfish, self-aggrandizing, power-hungry...

Regardless, Joshua still clearly knows something's up with Jules. She can see it in his eyes when he looks at her across the dinner table. He can tell she's doing something, just not what, and if he finds out what…

Jules pushes the beer away from her. No. He can't find out. She can't lose Azrael.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust.

“You're here early,” Azrael says, and Jules shrugs.

“I didn't go to Graham's today. Got home from work and knocked myself out.”

He settles next to her on the grass. “Tell me about it.”

“Nothing happened-- I mean, nothing out of the ordinary. I just...I don't like the way they look at me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, they just--" Jules sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “They  _ pity _ me. They think I'm a lost child, helpless, in need of saving... they think I'm a  _ junkie _ that needs an intervention before she overdoses.”

Azrael bites his lip, proceeding gingerly. “Is that...untrue?”

“Yes!” Jules catches herself and considers. “It is  _ now, _ I haven't touched any chems in weeks, I barely even drink anymore, I've spent more night at Lexington's house--  _ alone-- _ than she ever has!” She scoffs, hunching over with a softer voice. “I've been feeling  _ better _ , for the first time since I  _ got _ here, and it's no thanks to either of them.”

Azrael nods. “They've only made it worse, haven't they?”

“They're only doing it because they feel sorry for me.” She slowly turns to look up at him, eyes narrowing. “You don't...that's not why  _ you're  _ talking to me, is it? Not just because you feel  _ sorry _ for me?”

“Of course not, Julia.” Azrael reaches out to take her hand. “I'm here because I love you, and I care about you and want to see you prosper. I feel sorry for...for the things you've had to endure but I would never patronize you.” He pauses. “Not like Joshua and Jessica.”

Their eyes meet, and Azrael gives her a reassuring smile. “I'm here for you, Julia-- genuinely. You can tell me anything, and no one will hear of it.”

Jules takes another deep breath and smiles back at him, more hesitant. “I-- thank you, Azrael. Really, thank you.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're lost people.

How are they content to just live like this? Jules stabs at her food, Lexington and Graham's words bouncing off her ears without even registering. How are they happy like this, with the weight of their own sins on their backs, without striving to redeem themselves, to be  _ clean _ again? How are they  _ whole? _

It's the first time she's been to dinner in about three weeks. Every other night she's gone straight home after work, scraped up some dinner and waited to fall asleep and see Azrael again-- aided occasionally by some liquor and gently scolded for it in her dream. Better a reprimand from the angel than its host; Azrael doesn't judge and keeps encouraging her to try again. Graham...Graham preaches at her, has ever since they met in Zion Canyon.

They both act like they're so much better than her but they’re not, and instead of resentment like she’s always felt before-- towards Vulpes, towards the Bishops, even towards Lexington and Graham themselves-- she feels... _ sorry _ for them. They can’t see what she’s seen; they don’t know what kind of love and forgiveness is offered to them, if only they’d  _ listen _ to Azrael...they could find what she’s found. She’s been so much  _ happier, _ like she hasn’t been in-- in  _ years,  _ since her mother died. At first she’d been alarmed at how... _ relaxed _ she was, how many days went by without feeling like she needed chemical or alcoholic aid, but Azrael had told her that was good, a sign of improvement. She could sleep at night. Guilt and shame had loosened their grip on her, thanks to him.

So how could Lexington and Graham turn that down? Jules  _ knows _ they haven’t just forgotten what they’ve done and what’s happened to them, but they haven’t faced the music, they haven’t--

“Julia?”

Shit. Jules clears her throat and looks up at Graham, blinking rapidly. “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” His-- no,  _ Azrael’s _ \-- bright blue eyes drill into her, like he can look right through her and see her soul. Well. Actually, Azrael already has, hasn’t he.

“Um, yeah.” She coughs. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“We haven’t been seeing you often.” He folds his hands in front of him, pushing his empty plate back. “Is there something you need to tell us?”

“It’s  _ fine. _ ”

“Jules,” Lexington pipes up, hesitant, “if y’don’t...if y’don’t wanna see us anymore...if yer doin’ better without us--”

“No, it’s not that, it’s--”

“We don’t wanna bring y’down, but--”

“That’s not--”

“We just miss seein’ you, that’s all, and--”

Jules slams her hands down on the table enough to rattle silverware and dishes and give her a start. “It’s  _ fine, _ Lexington! I’m  _ fine, _ okay?! You don’t need to  _ hover _ over me; you’re not my fucking mother!”

She snatches her jacket off the back of her chair and storms towards the door. Snippets of Graham’s voice follow her as he and Lexington do: “Jessica, perhaps she...reminded of...it doesn’t mean she...if she chooses…we can’t expect--”

“Jules, wait, we need to--”

Jules slams the door behind her and marches home.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing.

“They’re lost, Azrael.” Jules dips her toes in the water at Cottonwood Cove and swings her legs back and forth off the floating barge. “They don’t understand. If they would just listen to you instead of...instead of keeping you locked up and silenced with Graham…”

Azrael sighs. “Watching those you love suffer and destroy themselves...it’s always difficult.”

“They could be redeemed, they could be so much better off. Why wouldn’t they want that?”

“I can’t explain it, Julia. Human behavior…” He wobbles his hand back and forth. “It’s beyond my understanding, frankly. I can’t explain why some won’t accept the grace given to them by God.”

Jules shrugs. “It took me long enough. I might not have ever changed if you hadn’t started visiting me.” She glances over at him in time to see a small smile crack his face. “I was in a really bad place when you came along, Azrael. I made...I made a lot of mistakes.”

“I know, my child. But you’ve made efforts to better yourself; you made restitution for what you did when you killed Caesar. You know what you did for the Legion was wrong. It’s just a matter of moving on now and you’ve been making such progress.”

She shakes her head. “No, more recent than that. In New Reno.”

He turns to look at her, tilting his head inquisitively.

God, she hasn’t even told Lexington about this-- she probably won’t given the current state of their relationship. That is, estranged, awkward, likely...likely to not last much longer, if she’s being honest. Her chest tightens at the thought though she knows it’s for the better.

“Yeah. I was trying to be a Bishop, trying to fit in with my father’s family. He wanted me to take over the business when he retired, and, you know...we can’t have me dying again if I’m supposed to lead the mob.”

Azrael deflates. “Oh, Julia…”

“It’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. Letting him pressure me into becoming immortal.” She grips the edge of the barge harder. “I don’t even remember what happened, I just remember waking up and feeling so... _powerful._ Embracing my--” it still feels so _strange_ to say it-- “ _divinity_ was intoxicating.”

He hasn’t stopped watching her.

“I can’t die anymore, which wasn’t a problem in New Reno, until I broke down from the pressure. So I left and came back here and realized what a big mistake becoming immortal was.”

Azrael suddenly leans in and pulls her into a tight embrace. “It wasn’t a mistake, Julia, I promise you it wasn’t.”

“Are you sure about that,” she mumbles into his shirt, measuring each breath carefully and deliberately to keep composed.

“Yes. I swear to you, that was not a mistake.” He sighs and strokes her back. “Thank you for telling me, Julia. I was waiting for this moment-- for you to become ready.”

A tear sneaks its way out of her eye. “What do you mean?”

“God works in mysterious ways,” Azrael continues, pulling away and looking at her again. “This was all meant to be. I’ve been alongside you this entire time, while your soul has healed from what’s been done to you. I’ve watched you get stronger, day by day. I’ve watched you become a better person, a person filled with love, a person who’s responsible. More responsible than... _Joshua._ ”

Her breath catches. “You can’t mean that.”

“I would never lie to you, Julia. I’ve watched you grow and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

She gives him a wavering smile. That’s all she’s ever wanted-- someone to be _proud_ of her. “Th-thank you, Azrael, I can’t believe…”

He smiles back, warmth beaming from his face. “You have done so, so well. You’ve done more to improve yourself than Joshua ever has, and I promise you, you will be rewarded for it. There is more to this than you know. And I believe you’re ready for it.”

Her brow furrows. “Azrael?”

“Julia...my precious Jules.” He takes her face in her hands. “You have a higher calling.”

Her eyes snap open to the darkness of her bedroom, the moon her only source of light.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules snaps.

“Hey, Jules.”

She sighs as she looks her workshop door and turns around. “What do you want, Lexington?”

“I wanna talk t’you.” Lexington shoves her hands in her coat pockets. “See how yer doin’. I'll walk home with ya, if y’don’t mind.”

Jules  _ does  _ mind, actually, but there's never been any swaying Lexington. “Does that mean you're staying at your place tonight instead of with Joshua?”

Lexington hesitates. “Well, no--"

Figures.

“But I wanted t’check on you. We haven't seen y’much these past couple months.”

“So?”

“'So'? We're worried, Jules, y’can’t jus’ disappear on us like that.”

“I haven't  _ disappeared, _ Lexington.” Jules kicks a stone off the road. “You know exactly where to find me at any given time.”

“That's not...” Lexington rubs her hand over her face and starts over. “If...if y’don't want t’see us anymore-- if we remind y’too much of what's happened...that's okay. I certainly don't blame ya for it. Jus’ tell us, alright? We don't wanna be a problem for ya.”

“I already told you, I'm  _ fine. _ Quit  _ bothering _ me about it.”

“ _ Botherin’ _ you?” Lexington snorts. “Sorry fer checkin’ up on my  _ friend,  _ didn't know that'd be such a  _ bother. _ ”

“It is when you're constantly on my ass about it! I don't need you holding my hand like I'm a toddler! Maybe if you weren't so busy fucking the Burned Man you would've noticed.”

Lexington stops dead in her tracks. “The hell does that hafta do with anythin’?!”

“The two of you just--!!” Jules stomps up to her and pokes her in the chest. “You think you have some sort of moral high ground?! You think you're  _ Jesus, _ come to rescue my Mary Magdalene ass from sin?!” She cuts Lexington off before she can say anything. “Yeah, I've been paying attention in church, why does that surprise you?! Who do you think you are?!”

“Who do I think  _ I  _ am?!” Lexington snarls, fangs bared. “I was tryin’ t’  _ help _ you, Jules! That's  _ all _ I've been doin’ since I dragged yer  _ charred corpse  _ off that  _ crucifix _ , helpin’  _ you! _ ”

Jules scoffs. “Oh yeah, ripping my throat open and drinking my blood was  _ such _ a big help.”

“That wasn't--”

“It  _ was  _ your fault! You were so--  _ self-centered _ you didn't even think about whether or not it was a good idea for your  _ vampire frumentarius cousin _ to go with you and he fucking turned you and  _ enslaved _ you!”

Lexington's jaw tightens and her eyes narrow but Jules can't--  _ won’t _ \-- stop.

“You and Graham  _ both _ think you're so high and mighty, you talk about so much ‘redemption’ and 'changed ways’ but you won't even do it yourselves, you just preach at  _ me _ instead!” She takes a step back and watches Lexington. Under the the streetlamps she's a stranger, not the blood mage who resurrected her, not the friend she helped save from enthrallment-- just another face, her dead eyes reflecting the light like some kind of wild predator.

Jules shakes her head and starts to leave. “I don't  _ need _ your help. Or your pity. I already have everything I need.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can save them."

“What do you mean, ‘a higher purpose’?”

Azrael sighs and takes Jules’ hand. “Julia...this world needs God's help. I was sent here to help it. When I found Joshua I thought I'd found the one chosen by God, but I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.”

The campfire crackles and snaps beside them.

“This hasn't been the path I imagined,” he continues, “not even close to it. Joshua appeared righteous-- a New Canaanite, raised in the faith and seemingly repenting for his sins after a second baptism in fire. I didn't know...I _should_ have known: the appearance of holiness does not equal the truth.”

Is he...is he saying she's _holy?_ Jules’ heart skips a beat. Love is one thing, forgiveness another, but _holiness?_

Azrael smiles reassuringly. “But even we angels must have faith in God and never give up hope. When you came to Zion Canyon-- lost and angry as you were-- I knew. I knew we'd both been brought there by God-- Joshua was merely a stepping stone to you.”

Jules has to keep herself from smiling. An angel, sent to find _her--_ she has _meaning_ . She _matters_. She's part of something bigger after all.

Then, her face falls. Azrael can tell her she's chosen, but why? Why _not_ Joshua; surely his sins aren't greater than her own. She's about to ask but Azrael nods, tapping his forehead.

“You’re probably wondering why you, aren’t you. Most humans do; they think they’re unworthy of God’s grace.”

Well, he's not wrong.

“God often uses those society has decided are irredeemable.” He holds up three fingers. “Three individuals come to mind that have a particular relevance to you, Julia.”

First finger: “Moses was a murderer, yet God chose him to lead the Hebrews out of slavery.”

Second: “Rahab was a prostitute, yet God chose her to aid the Israelites in their journey to the Promised Land.”

Third: “The Apostle Paul began his career murdering Christians, yet God chose him to spread the good news of his Son across the world.”

Azrael takes her hands again. “And you, Julia, you are in such great company as theirs, and perhaps even greater than them still.”

Jules can feel herself blushing. The last time she felt this... _pride,_ she was still in Caesar's employ and she'd just sentenced an entire nation to death, but unlike then, she doesn't feel any twinge of remorse. No conscience eating at her anymore; this is _right._ “I...thank you, I don't know what to say.”

“You've come so far, Julia. You've lived up to every hope I've ever had for you-- you aren't hurting anymore. You've bettered yourself so much already these past few months.” He gives her hands a squeeze and stands, taking a few steps away from their fire. Jules trots behind. “Whereas Joshua...Joshua is...a _disappointment._ ”

Jules stops beside him and looks up, watching his face.

“Joshua was given holy powers and has misused them,” Azrael says. "He has given in to his greed and lust and uses his powers for such...” He balls a hand into a fist, grasping for words. “ _Short-sighted_ goals. Instead of accepting the purpose the Lord laid out before him, Joshua instead chooses to ignore it and to lie in sin with an unholy creature.”

Pinpricks fill Jules’ stomach. Even on rocky terms with Lexington, it still somewhat stings to hear her spoken of like this. But she could _be_ holy, she could _be_ redeemed, if she would just...

“Jessica has such a kind soul,” Azrael continues, “but Joshua chooses to keep her mortal mind here on this plane when he knows full well he could free her.” His face hardens, the most upset Jules has ever seen him. “He is selfish and unworthy of the gifts God has given him. I cannot believe I thought _he_ was the one I was sent for.”

Jules takes his hand. “It's not your fault.”

He nods once, then finally looks down at her, light from the flames flickering over their faces. “But you, Julia...you could save Jessica's soul. You could save them all. Those who _truly_ belong in the Kingdom of Heaven."

The fire flares and dies with a mighty roar, leaving Jules awake and alone in her bed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday.

_ Save them all...save them all...save them all... _

Azrael's words echo in Jules’ head all day, while she's repairing machinery and planning telegram wires and walking home at night. She's only seen Lexington and Graham in passing since her argument with Lexington the previous week but Jules doesn't know if she could face them again at all. Her reports have been wired in, no more dinners where she and Graham eat in silence while Lexington sucks a blood pack dry in thirty seconds. Jules doesn't miss it.

She crawls under her blankets and hugs a pillow underneath her head. Azrael will tell her more about how she can save them tonight, and then they can move forward with his plan, and Lexington will see what love and redemption she can have...

When Jules drifts off she finds herself at the campfire in the Mojave again, stars twinkling overhead, teakettle by the fire--

Azrael isn't there.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday.

Maybe he was just busy (doing  _ what, _ Jules, he's trapped in a human vessel). There has to have been some good reason Azrael hadn't visited the previous night. He wouldn't just...no, there's a reason, it's not her fault. She'll ask him about it tonight.

Jules opens her eyes to the campsite again. Azrael isn't there.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday.

Well...maybe he's found someone else who needs help. Lord knows she can't be the only broken person in New Zion (perhaps only the  _ most _ broken).

Jules finds herself walking the familiar streets of New Reno, up and down, passing her father's casino where she'd taught Azrael how to play poker (not that he was good) and the boxing club where she'd fought in a match against an ex-centurion and won, beaming at Azrael with her victory as he cheered her on from the front row. 

She rounds a corner, to the bar where they'd met the first time they visited New Reno in her dreams. Azrael isn't there.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday.

Was it something she said? Has she unknowingly committed some great sin that's keeping Azrael away? Jules hasn't told anyone they've been talking; of course she hasn't, she'd never disobey him. She hasn't so much as looked at a bottle or syringe in weeks, that can't be it; no one's even touched her in just as long, that can't be it either. She's done everything it's asked, hasn't she?

“Miz McAllister?” A hand lands on her shoulder and Jules flinches back to the present. She turns to see one of her employees, a woman about her age with a knack for numbers-- pulled like Jules herself off the streets and into respectable work-- with concern in her eyes. Her bright, clear blue eyes. “You alright there? I been tryin’ to get your attention for a couple minutes now.”

“Um...yeah.” Jules wipes her face with her sleeve. “Yeah, Cora, I'm okay. What did you need?”

She doesn't remember Cora's problem later, nor does she remember solving it or going through the motions of the rest of her day when she finds herself collapsing on her bed at home, stomach too twisted and knotted to worry about dinner. Why hasn't Azrael come back? What did she do to drive him away? She's been obedient, she's been faithful, where did she go wrong?

When she drifts off hours later, not having moved an inch, she finds herself alone in her workshop-- no city outside, no Cora...no Azrael.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday.

He's decided she's not worth it after all, hasn't he? How _could_ she be? God, what a fool she was to fall for this again; she's no more _special_ than when Caesar found her. Divinity, immortality, morality makes no difference. He's seen her for what she is deep, deep down and wants nothing to do with it.

Jules has only moved to shoot off a quick telegram to the workshop that she's ill and won't be in for the next few days. Her appetite all but vanished when she woke up after yet another dream without Azrael so she just crawls back under the covers still trying to figure out _why_. Why has he done this without telling her? Why hadn't he said something if she was driving him away? He could have warned her so she could try and stop it, couldn't he? Why did he just let this happen?

Tears run down her face until she falls asleep again, finding herself walking the streets of Nipton-- no Azrael. Her stomachache wakes her up, briefly, before she burrows deeper and drifts off, waking behind the temple-- alone. She wakes a third time and sees the sun setting through her window, casting long shadows across the room, and she's wide awake after napping the entire day away. The bottles in her liquor cabinet call, tempting her to numb herself and pass out again just like so many times before; after all, why shouldn't she if the one person who believed in her better nature is gone?

But instead she just waits, hours and hours til sleep takes hold again. Azrael might come back and she can't disappoint him. How bad would it look if she succumbed to her old ways and when she dreamed again, he was there to greet her?

He's not.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday.

Joshua. It has to be Joshua keeping Azrael away. Jules is _sure_ of it.

He must have figured out Azrael was talking to her and wanted to keep all that angelic power _to himself_ like the selfish condescending man he is. Who _does_ Joshua think he is?! Pretending to be so _pious_ and _holy_ an _angel_ chose him to carry out God's will-- _HA!_ He may be able to fool the rest of his tribe but Jules, Jules isn't _part_ of his tribe; she _knows better_ than to believe his lies.

Azrael told her she has a higher calling but Joshua wants to _keep her from it_ _,_ he wants to keep her from what the God he claims to follow has planned for her, the _audacity!_ Who does he think he is?!

Jules doesn't expect Azrael to be there when she falls asleep that night but nevertheless she's disappointed when he's still gone and she's on the outskirts of Vegas, alone near her crucifix.

“Azrael?” she ventures. Her call gets no answer as she starts to wander. “Please, Azrael, if you're there, please answer.”

Nothing.

She takes a long, shaky breath. “Please...I miss you. Please answer me.”

Nothing.

Jules looks up to see the charred stake Vulpes lashed her to towering above, much taller than she remembers. “Azrael... _please._ ”

Silence.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday.

She has to get him back. She'll do anything.

Jules has been wide awake all day, pacing around Lexington's house trying to figure out where she went wrong, what she can do. Joshua's holding Azrael back; she can't take him on by herself of course, but...she can appeal to a higher power. Isn't that what the Mormons always say? Pray and God will always answer?

She kneels awkwardly beside her bed and folds her hands. The last time she prayed-- well, technically it was as she burned to death, tossing up a frantic plea to any god who would listen to spare her life, but the last time she was _intentional_ about it was...never, actually. She can't remember ever earnestly praying for anything that wasn't in a blind panic. Here goes nothing.

Jules closes her eyes and bows her head. “...Hi, God. If you're listening. Um. It's me, Jules McAllister. Which I guess you...already knew that.”

This is going _great_.

“Uh. But I wanted-- I wanted to ask for...for Azrael to come back. He disappeared a week ago and I need him, he's the last friend I have left. If I did something wrong that made him leave I'm sorry, please just tell me what it is and I'll fix it, I swear.”

Unwanted tears choke her words.

“I was lost until Azrael found me and I'm lost without him again, just please send him back. I need someone who believes in me like he does; he makes me feel like I belong, like I matter. If it wasn't for him--”

She stops. Couldn't bring herself to voice this before, but, well...God already knows everything, right?

“If it wasn't for Azrael I'd be good as dead right now.” Can't die anymore but could probably get damn close. “I need him back, please...at least. At least just to say goodbye if he has to leave forever.”

She doesn't know what else to say. Her eyes blink open and she slowly crawls into bed, hugging the covers around her and waiting for sleep that doesn't come for hours, kept at bay by constant worry and fear she hasn't been heard-- or worse, that she has and she's been rejected.

Exhaustion finally wins out, and when she opens her eyes in her dream Jules finds herself...nowhere. She stands in an empty, bright white void, warm and comfortable but still alone.

“I'm so proud of you, Julia.”

But not anymore.

Jules spins around at the voice, face split in a wide grin, and sees Azrael standing before her, smiling back with his arms open for a hug she gladly accepts. He holds her close, stroking her hair as she digs her fingers into his shirt.

“I thought you abandoned me,” she says, muffled.

Azrael laughs. “I would never abandon you, Julia. I promised you that, didn't I?” He pulls away and places his hands on her shoulders. “You kept your faith in me, in God-- I'm _so proud_ that you've made it to this point. You are truly ready.”

Jules nods, wiping tears from her eyes. Ready for her higher purpose. “Thank you, Azrael...”

“It’s time for you to carry out your God-given duty. To become a vessel for the Lord's will.” Azrael locks eyes with her. “We need to be together. _Forever._ ”

Her heart skips a beat. “You mean--”

“I'll be there every step of the way, Julia. This is what you've been called for, what everything that's happened has been preparing you for.”

She nods.

“Together,” he continues, “we can rescue innocent souls from Hell. Ones you know deserve it. Jessica's...and Eliza's.”

Jules freezes. The chance to save her mother, after all these years...not even her demigod father could have offered her that. Her gaze drifts to the scars up and down her left arm, runes burned into her skin, a souvenir from when the Horseman Death used her as a vessel to defeat their brother War. If this, if becoming Azrael's vessel now is what she's meant for...who is she to protest? “What do I have to do?”

“You must take me from Joshua. He has been... _unwilling_ to do what the Lord asks of him and unwilling to give me up, no matter how much I begged him. You _must_ do it. Do it for me, Julia.”

She nods, feverish. “Of course. Of course I will.”

Azrael smiles. “You'll need ink to paint the sigils for the ritual. Salt, of course. Holy water, candles...”

He runs down a list of supplies she’ll need to get and Jules keeps nodding; she knows where to find all of them. It'll be easy, the easiest thing she's ever done.

“And finally,” he says, “you'll need to know the sigils to draw and the steps to the ritual.” He smiles again. “They're slightly important.” He reaches out to cover her eyes with his hand and with a searing flash everything she needs is burned into her memory, like the runes on her skin. She gasps and staggers back, but looks up at Azrael and nods again.

“Of course. I can get this done in...I can do it in a few days, probably.”

“Thank you, Julia.” Azrael hesitates. “The last step in the ritual. You need to kill Joshua.”

Jules frowns. “Kill him...?”

“He _must_ die, Julia. His soul must be sent elsewhere so it won't cling to me.”

“I don't...” She shakes her head, stepping back again. “I can't do that. I can't do that to Lexington.”

“To _Lexington?_ ” Azrael tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“I still owe her. She resurrected me, she gave me a place to stay...there's still hope for her, Azrael. I can't hurt her like that.”

“Julia.” He folds his hands. “It's hurting her more to exist as she is...the very antithesis of her beliefs. Joshua has allowed her soul to languish in Hell, he wants her for _eternity--_ it's part of why he refuses to release me.” Azrael steps forward and holds her face. “But if you do this, you can save her. Make her _human_ again. Think of how happy she'll be-- she can find a real husband, not a man who's too cowardly to commit to her in a contract made in God's witness. She can have a _family._ ”

...He's right. Lexington may be angry when Jules kills Joshua but that'll be forgiven, it'll _all_ be forgiven when she's human again. “I'll do it.”

“Good.” Azrael smiles again, letting her go. “Now, the last of the sigils I gave you, they must be drawn in Joshua's blood as he dies, otherwise they won't hold enough power, and when you kill him you must use blessed bullets, and--” He sees her distracted nodding and stops. “What's wrong?”

“Azrael...” Her nails dig into her palms. “What's going to happen to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“When Death...possessed me, I blacked out. I don't remember any of what happened. I just remember right _before_ it happened and waking up after. Is that what’s going to happen with you?” Jules looks up at him again. “Will I still be...me?

“Of course you will, Julia.” He places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “This is a _partnership._ Not a contract. Not a deal. We’ll be together every step of the way; I would never do anything to harm you or let something happen to you. In the end, it's _your_ body. Joshua could resist-- he has for years. So could you. But unlike Joshua I trust you not to stray.” His smile softens. “You had faith in me. Now I'll have faith in you.”

Jules blinks back the sudden sting of tears, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “I'll do it. As soon as I can find the supplies, I'll do it. I won't let you down.”

“Good. Very good.” Azrael pulls her into another warm hug. “Remember, Julia. God loves you. _I_ love you.”

She wakes up.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the greater good.

Sigils and ritual still burning in her memory, Jules darts up to Joshua and tugs his sleeve as he and Lexington exit the temple after service.

“Jules?” Lexington watches her, curious, but Jules’ attention lies only on Joshua.

“What can I do for you, Julia?”

She takes a deep breath. She's doing this for the greater good. For the world. For Lexington. “I was...I wanted to talk to you, Joshua. I'm sorry for-- for disappearing and being so...absent, and I was wondering if--” God, all these eyes on her, it'd be bad enough if it was just him but there's so _many_ _,_ she has to get this done quick. “If you wanted to go on a hike with me this weekend. I found a really nice overlook to the north, near an old settlement, it'd be a nice place to talk. Get away from the noise of the city.”

God, please let him believe her, please please please; if Azrael has any influence let him use it to make this work, please...

Joshua nods, slowly. “Yes, that certainly sounds refreshing. I look forward to catching up with you, Julia. It's been far too long.”

Oh. She wasn't expecting him to go this easily. Maybe it was Azrael influencing him after all.

She throws on her brightest smile to mask the nerves. “Great! I'll see you then.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If this is intended to be a joke, Julia, I'm not laughing.”

Hiking on only three hours of sleep probably isn't the best idea Jules has ever had, but preparing Azrael's ritual had taken longer than she'd thought. Intricate trap sigils painted on the floor of one of the abandoned houses in the old settlement near the overlook, hidden holy water, ink, blessed bullets, gun...the only gun she'd had was the very pistol Joshua gave her when she left Zion Canyon. A Light Shining In Darkness. The irony's not lost on her.

“How have you been, Julia?” Joshua’s rumbling voice startles her out of her thoughts. “Dinners with Jessica are much shorter and quieter without your presence.”

“Um. Fine.” Don’t do this, Joshua. Don’t make this harder.

“I’m glad to see you in good health. We were concerned you’d gone back to chemical aids but Jessica told me the last time she saw you, she smelled neither chems nor liquor around you.”

What the-- why was Lexington telling him what she _smelled_ like? “Yeah. Gave ‘em up.”

“I’m happy to hear it.”

Between the time she'd spent preparing the ritual, the hike there and back in the dead of night and the sheer nerves from what she had to do Jules had barely slept, certainly not enough to dream. A shame; words of encouragement from Azrael would have done her a world of good, eased her anxiety about _this,_ but it doesn't matter anymore, it _won't_ matter anymore by the end of the day. She and Azrael will be partners, together until the end of time. Just as is meant to be.

“Have you been in your workshop much?” Damn it, why is he still talking? “I’d be interested to hear what you have in the works for New Zion’s infrastructure.”

“Not really.” Jules digs her nails into her palms. “I’ve been sick the last week or so.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nothing interesting going on anyway. Just the telegraph lines.”

“I see.” Joshua takes a few more steps before pausing and waiting for her to catch up. His long legs outpace her even on her most determined days. “We _have_ missed you, Julia. I know you and Jessica aren’t on the best of terms at the moment, but please know you’re welcome in our home.”

Don’t _do_ this. Don’t lie to her again. “Uh-huh. Thanks.”

He falls silent again, slowing his stride so she can keep up. If the rest of the hike is quiet that’s more than enough for her.

With a few discreet hand motions as she and Joshua continue their trek uphill, Jules waves in some cloud cover that darkens with each passing minute. She's rarely, if ever, used these powers from her father; weather control wasn't even a passing thought until recently and it takes too much energy from her to be worth it very often. Now, though, it's worth it now. A sudden storm to drive them inside, where the sigils will trap Joshua and...

Don't think about it. Do what Azrael said-- it's for the good of _everyone._ You can do it, Jules. It's what you were born for.

The first sprinkling of rain hits their heads about halfway up the path; by the time the reach the abandoned settlement it's escalated into a proper storm, pouring rain, rumbling thunder in the distance, the occasional flash of lightning. Soaked, Jules darts to the covered porch of the house she'd chosen and tries the door-- unlocked, of course, just as she left it.

“Let's wait it out inside,” she calls back to Joshua. “If there's a fireplace I can try and warm it up, dry us out a little.”

Joshua examines the house for only a moment before nodding his agreement. “Yes, I think that's a wise choice. Storms like these never last; we won't be here long.” He strides past her into the house. Jules can't believe he doesn't hear her racing heartbeat.

She slips over to the fireplace on the far side of the living room-- over the carefully arranged rug, laid just so to hide the trap sigils she'd painted-- and finds the firewood she'd left behind on the andiron. With a snap of her fingers she lights a piece and watches the flame spread, heat beginning to warm the room and dry her clothes.

Jules waves Joshua over with a small smile. “C’mon. Soggy bandages can't be great.” Don't let her plan fail now, not this close...she can almost hear Azrael in her mind, encouraging her, so _proud_ of her...

He takes the bait. Joshua takes a few steps towards her, across the rug-- and _shudders_ as he enters the trap. He shoots her a glance, part confusion, part anger, and tries to move off the rug-- he can't go forward. He turns and tries to leave the way he came-- can't go that way either. Any direction he tries, he finds himself trapped. Just as planned. Jules steels herself and sets her jaw as she turns her back on him and reaches for her hidden supplies under a loose floorboard.

“If this is intended to be a joke, Julia, I'm not laughing.”

She says nothing. Her hands tremble as she retrieves the box and starts setting up the supplies: salt on the windowsills and in the doorways, candles in the corners of the room lit with careful sparks she blows their way, ink and holy water to mix and paint sigils on herself later to ease the... _transfer_ after Joshua's death. Extra brushes to paint with his blood. A Light Shining In Darkness, loaded with blessed silver bullets.

“That’s enough. ” Joshua's voice drips with irritation. He tries again to move off the rug-- out of the circle trap-- to stop her while she salts the doors but still to no avail.

Jules whispers under her breath in a language she's never spoken nor heard before Azrael seared it into her mind with the sigils and runes for the ritual; the words sting as they pass, like the burn of alcohol on chapped lips. The air grows heavy and crackles with power across her skin and she can hear Azrael's whisper as though he's just over her shoulder: _Excellent, you're doing an excellent job, Julia...not much longer now, my beloved child, and you'll never be alone again._

“Julia.” Joshua's voice cuts through, more pressed with urgency. “Answer me. What are you trying to accomplish here?”

She ignores him, lighting the last of the candles.

“I will admit, you’ve constructed this trap well. I haven’t seen one of this kind since my days in the Legion.” He narrows his eyes, glancing at the candles, the ink, the holy water, _really_ listening to her words. “Are you trying to summon an angel for yourself?  It's not a wise idea, I can assure you.”

Don't do this, Joshua. Just let her get it over with.

“Or perhaps you're attempting an exorcism.” He lets out a wry laugh. “Just as much of a fool's errand.”

Technically, he's not that far off. She kneels by the box she left by the fireplace and starts loading the gun.

“Whatever it is you're trying to do, Julia, I would advise against it. You don’t understand what kind of door you’re opening; believe me, it’s not one you should approach lightly.”

 _Don't listen to him,_ Azrael whispers, _he's desperate to keep me for himself. You must continue-- it's the Lord's will._

Jules nods and pulls the slide back on the gun, clicking a bullet into place. She turns around to face Joshua in time to see him stiffen, eyes wide and locked on her hands.

“Do you think you can...did _Silas_ put you up to this? Is this some kind of attempt to win his _favor?_ ” He furrows his brow, words laced with contempt.

She shakes her head. “Silas hasn't spoken to me in months. Why would I be trying to earn _his_ favor?”

“Why indeed.” Joshua paces as close to the edge of the trap as he can, raising his voice more the longer he goes on. “Then I'll ask again: _what_ do you think you're doing? What foolish reasoning made you think this was a good idea?”

Her hands tremble and tighten around the pistol’s grip.

“Did someone threaten you? Promise you something for this?”

She shakes her head again, more of her body shivering.

 _It's alright, my child,_ Azrael coos, _just have faith in me._

“Then _what,_ Julia?!” He spits the words in a sudden shout; she hasn't seen him this angry since they fought the White Legs in Zion Canyon. “Are you out of your mind?! Are you possessed?!”

Jules cocks the hammer and aims the pistol at his chest with shaking hands and tears springing to her eyes. “ _I'm_ not the possessed one. _I'm_ the one carrying out God's will.” She swallows the warble creeping into her voice. “Unlike you, who's _wasting_ and _abusing_ the divine power you've been blessed with. But I'm different. I'm...I'm gonna use it to _help_ people, to-- to save innocent souls from Hell.”

Joshua's eyes widen, shocked, and he freezes before her. “Julia...have you...have you been visited in your dreams? By someone making you great promises? Someone saying...they're an _angel?_ They're _my_ angel?”

How-- how does he know?! Jules tries to form the words for the question but only stammers one out: “A...Azrael...”

“Oh, God.” His hands creep up to his face and hold it in horror. “Is that why you've become so distant? Is that why you've weaned off the chems and liquor, why you've started going to church? Because _Azrael's_ been whispering to you in your dreams?”

_See, he doesn't want you to get better, Julia, not with my help-- how much more selfish can he be? Pull the trigger and end him now, this will all be over._

“What did it tell you, Julia? Did it appear at your darkest hour, promising that everything would be alright? That you had a higher purpose? That you'd been _chosen_ by God?”

How does he _know?!_ How does he _know_ these things?! The pistol still trained on Joshua, Jules takes a step back, her entire body trembling uncontrollably with barely suppressed sobs. “He...he helped me...he _listened_ to me. He told me I was _more_ than my sins.” Tears begin streaming down her face; she's never felt nearly as _small_ as she does now. “He told me I was special. He-- he promised me _redemption._ That I could _save_ people.”

 _You can, Julia, you can, just_ **_finish_ ** _this..._

“Of course it did.” Joshua looks up at her, his own eyes brimming with tears that quickly spill over and leave wet streaks down his face bandages. “Julia, I...I’m so sorry, Julia...I should have known this was Azrael's doing. I never intended for this to happen, but...”

“What do you mean,” she mumbles, dreading what he'll say next.

“Azrael...Azrael is _no_ angel, Julia. It's a _demon._ ”

A _demon._

It's a knife plunging into her gut, piercing skin and muscle and twisting back and forth. Her heart races and her knees buckle but she rights herself, shaking her head partly in denial and partly to rid herself of Azrael's voice: _Oh, don't listen to him, he's lying to you, always has, why would he tell the truth now when it'd just get him killed? Speaking of..._

“It’s not true,” Jules whispers, half to Azrael and half to his vessel. “It can't be true.”

“I wish it wasn't.” Joshua shudders. “Believe me, I wish it wasn't. But you’ve been fooled this entire time and God knows I wish I'd done something sooner.” He takes a deep breath, shuts his eyes. “What does it want with you? Does it want to possess you? For you to kill me so it can?”

Jules shakes her head. “He told me you would do this, he told me you would lie, just so you could keep his power for yourself.” She barely believes her own words at this point, but what else does she have to cling to? “But we're going to be together forever, we're going to help people, we're going to save my _mother_ from Hell.”

 _Of course we are, Julia,_ Azrael purrs, but this time there's an edge to his words. _All you have to do is kill him, just like we planned. Come along, now._

“Of course it told you that.” Joshua closes his eyes and shakes his own head. “What else did it tell you, that it could make Jessica _human_ again? Don't you think if it was possible I would have done it by now?!” He sighs, balling his fists. “Azrael told me the same things. It made me the same promises, about Jessica, about saving the wrongly damned, but I knew. I knew they were nothing more than lies. All it wants is destruction. All these years I've been containing it, preventing it from wreaking havoc on earth...of course it wants to escape.”

_Come on, don't let him pull the wool over your eyes again. Don't you want to see your mother?_

“I shouldn’t have lied about its true nature, but I had no choice, Julia. From the beginning I knew I had to keep what it really is a secret-- I thought-- I thought it was the right thing to do.” Joshua looks down at her again, tears flowing even freer down his face. “I thought telling my people Azrael was an angel would protect them-- would protect _me._ I never intended for anyone to be hurt because of it.”

This isn't happening. This isn't real, this isn't true, none of this is happening. It's just another horrible nightmare Azrael will save her from, it'll be alright, everything will be alright...

Jules has never seen Joshua cry before. Not once.

Slowly, she bends and sets the gun on the floor, keeping her eyes on Joshua as she reaches for the flask of holy water. Please, God, if you're listening...don't let this happen.

_What are you doing? That's not supposed to be for--_

Jules reaches out and splashes the water onto Joshua's face and she is _entirely_ unprepared for the piercing SHRIEK of pain in her head from Azrael; as the water sizzles and burns on Joshua she falls backwards, gasping and clutching her ears as Joshua recoils and grabs at his face, sputtering through the pain.

“Would-- would an _angel_ be burned by holy water?” He pants and slowly straightens back up. “I'm sorry, Julia...I'm so sorry...”

She keeps shaking her head in disbelief as she sinks to the floor in front of him, just on the edge of the trap. It's a demon-- Azrael's a demon-- she almost let it possess her, she almost _killed_ someone because it so thoroughly fooled her-- oh _God,_ what has she _done?_

One by one the sobs she's been holding back start to wrack her body until she can barely catch a breath, her shoulders heaving and stomach tied up in knots. How could she be so stupid?! So naive?! She should have known it was too good to be true, should have known she couldn't trust it, should have known, should have known...

Jules feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her and pull her close. She clings to Joshua's vest and buries her face in the rough fabric as he holds her, stroking up and down her back.

“I'm here, Julia,” he says, his voice hoarse with tears of his own. “I'm not going anywhere.” Despite everything, it's the safest she's felt in a long, long time.

Until Joshua's fingers curl into the fabric of her jacket and dig into her skin, and his embrace becomes more constricting than comforting. Before she can protest he opens his own mouth to speak but the voice that comes out-- it's not Joshua's.

“ ** _You..._**  ” he rasps out, metal on metal, pushing her away to hold her by the shoulders at arm's length before slapping her to the floor. “ _You_ **_STUPID BITCH!_ ** _Just KILL HIM, you're SO CLOSE!_ ”

_Azrael._

It scowls and seizes her shellshocked face in an iron grip, lifting her up again and forcing her to keep eye contact with it. “ _Were you this incompetent when you were killing for_ **_Caesar?_ ** _When you were fucking anyone with a single cap to give you in_ **_Nipton?_ ** _Christ, no wonder so many people tried to kill you-- if only_ **_one_ ** _of them had made it_ **_stick._** ” It shoves her away and spits at her feet.

Jules scrambles away from it, shaking her head; no, how is this happening?! Joshua's always kept it under control before-- God, what if it breaks out?!

Azrael draws itself to its full height, the fire in the hearth casting an even taller shadow sporting what looks like dozens of pairs of leathery wings behind it as it prowls along the edge of the trap. “ _You still have the gun and he's not even in_ **_control_ ** _right now, I can't_ **_POSSIBLY_ ** _make this_ **_ANY EASIER_ ** _for you! Just_ **_DO IT!_ ** _You'll never see your mother again if you don't!_ ”

No, _no,_ she can't...she can't let this happen.

Instead of the gun Jules dives for the flask of holy water and throws its contents on Azrael; as soon as the water hits it it doubles over with a scream of agony and fury, gasping through the pain and cursing at her in an unfamiliar and hostile tongue. It sinks back to the floor and with a few more wails falls into unconscious silence, at least for the moment. No way it's actually dead.

Jules stands halfway upright above it, watching Joshua's chest rise and fall for a moment, then lifts what she can of the rug and scratches away the ink forming the outermost circle of sigils, leaving a gap and breaking the spell so Joshua can escape when he wakes up. She shuffles backwards, her feet knocking the gun, the brushes, the now-empty flask across the floor, but before she can leave she collapses into a fresh round of painfully dry-eyed sobs, tears all spent before. She barely manages to crawl to the corner farthest away from Joshua, from it _all_ , and curls into a ball, waiting for...for _what?_ No angel’s going to save her now.

 _...“Normally women are forbidden from fighting in my Legion, but you,_ **_Courier Six._ ** _Clearly you're something special. Serve me and the entire Mojave and more will know your name.”_

_...“I know what you are, Courier Six. I can see that wild magic you've got, how you've suppressed it, struggled to tame it...I can help you. In fact, I'm the only man alive who knows how to control what you have; it practically takes divine power to do it. Luckily for you, my father Mars blessed me with his gifts. Follow me and I'll teach you everything I know-- you'll be the most powerful witch west of the Colorado.”_

_...“Courier Six...the only woman worthy of the Legion, of_ **_my_ ** _favor...well done. Legatus Lanius told me of your prowess at Hoover Dam. Truly, you belong in my service.”_

Oh, God.

Azrael fed her exactly what Caesar had-- the same promises of help and purpose. The same praise and assurance of being _special._ She'd fallen for it _again_. How could she let this happen? What kind of a fool _is_ she?

Where can she _go_ from here? Back to New Reno? Her family there doesn't want her anymore, if they did Silas would have kept up with her; she's alienated one of her only friends and just tried to _murder_ the other so she can't stay in New Zion either; everything gets taken away from her in the end, everything, _EVERYTHING,_ God, _WHY?!_ What did she do to deserve it, what horrible sin did she commit that she can't hold on to anything that matters?! She's so _stupid_ and _gullible_ , how _delighted_ Azrael must have been to find such an easy target.

“Julia...”

The rain’s stopped, windows gone long dark when Jules looks up again, at Joshua pushing himself off the floor and balancing on shaking hands and knees.

“Azrael...Azrael's rage...it's all I can manage to keep it contained.” His words are his own again but strained to the point of breaking. “I need you to help me--” He sucks in a sharp gasp and his shoulders seize up before he continues. “Help me get home. Jessica and I placed additional warding spells on it in the event Azrael decided to--”

A fresh round of pain cuts him off with a strangled, barely suppressed cry and one arm falters, dropping him listing to one side on the floor.

“I can't do this on my own, Julia.”

All that’s left of Azrael’s whispering in Jules’ ears is a sinister, crackling hiss. It spikes when she steps closer to him, reaching a fever pitch when she stops outside the trap and offers her hand to him. Joshua takes it and pulls himself up to standing, has to lean over to prop himself on Jules’ shoulders, not that she thinks he’s much for staying upright at the moment; she knows the feeling all too well. They hobble their way out of the house and slowly inch downhill, back to New Zion, the forced small talk of their journey up washed away in the storm. Is this easier or harder for him than the trip back to New Canaan after the first battle of Hoover Dam?

Graham's house is empty and dark when they stumble in; Lexington must be out on patrol in town. Joshua shudders as they cross the threshold and activate the containment spells. He makes his way across the room and braces himself against the far wall while Jules slowly sinks down into the couch, curling up into its corner.

“I should have...told you the truth, Julia. Had I known--” He stops, measuring his breaths. “I...should have told you regardless. It's what you deserve--”

“ ** _Deserve?!_ ** ” Azrael's metallic rasp roars back as Joshua stiffens and jerks around to face her, his movements sudden-- broken as Joshua fights to keep control over his own body. “ _You think you’re worthy of_ **_anything_ ** _you have here?! You are_ **_nothing!_ ** _You--_ ”

Joshua gasps and braces his hands on his knees. “You deserve the truth, Julia.” He takes a long, deep breath. Steels himself against the demon and the past. “After the Legion’s defeat at the first battle of Hoover Dam, Caesar and I-- we decided we wanted immortality. Power. We decided to summon a demon _like the_ **_fools_ ** _they were, thinking they could make a_ **_deal_ ** _with_ \-- but I...Caesar betrayed me at the Grand Canyon. We knew the ritual would require a human sacrifice to power it _and like a lamb to the slaughter the mighty_ **_Malpais Legate_ ** _let himself be led to what_ **_should_ ** _have been his death--_ ”

Joshua clutches his head with trembling, clawed hands, slowly sinks first to one knee, then the other. “I should have-- died there, at the bottom of-- the canyon, perhaps _it would have been better for the fool if he had, but--_ it offered to-- to make the pain stop-- to let me have my revenge _and he accepted, how_ **_quickly_ ** _he broke knowing full well it would bring him eternal damnation,_ not knowing if I could keep it under my control or not-- it was a matter of survival and I took the risk. Either way-- by either Caesar's flames or Azrael's-- it would likely mean the end of my life **_AND IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN!_** ”

Azrael seizes control and claws at the bandages on Joshua's face, hurls his body to the hardwood floor with such force Jules jumps and shrinks back further at the _CRACK!_ of bone against wood. She’s never seen his face, his _real_ face, underneath the gauze, and for a moment she’s transfixed by the scrawled Latin words burned into his skin, white hot with Azrael’s hatred, pulsing and rippling around glowing eyes and a manic grin and barely, _barely_ keeping the demon trapped just below.

Joshua wrestles one hand to grasp his broken nose and attempt to staunch the bleeding, white bandages staining red as he pants. “I prayed every step of the way back to New Canaan _and look what good it did you_ and I sang praise to God as loudly and often as I could bear to keep it contained  _I could have obliterated you, your entire_ **_TRIBE_ ** _at any moment_ \-- when I arrived, I wanted to-- to seek out a priest-- _HA--_ have the fiend exorcised from me-- _HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA--_ but I decided, no.”

Jules frowns, watches him struggling to stay upright.

“My people--” Joshua gasps. “My people needed something to believe in _like the_ **_FOOLS_ ** _they were_ they needed to believe-- there was an angel watching over them...so that's what I told them.”

His voice grows strained, as if Azrael has its clawed fingers around his neck.

“I gave-- them hope-- I-- told them-- what they needed to hear-- but Julia, if I'd known-- if I had known this is what it would come to--”

Joshua's head snaps up to glare at Jules, electric blue eyes crackling with rage, Azrael's snarl ripping from his mouth again.

“ _He would have done the exact same thing. I know his heart_ **_just_ ** _as I know yours, Caesar's_ **_whore_** _, and nothing would have changed anything either of you have done._ ” It stands, still doubled over but still glaring at her as it extends a shaking finger towards her. “ _When I free myself from this vessel I won't be going after you, oh no, not at first,_ **_my_ ** _first task will be to drag your mother's soul into the_ **_deepest_ ** _abyss of Hell and flay her to shreds myself, and the same for Jessica, and for everyone you've ever harbored a shred of affection for in your entire_ **_pathetic_ ** _life. I'll make you watch each of them die and when I'm finished--_ ”

A furious roar tears from Joshua's throat and echoes through the house; Jules can only stare dumbfounded as he seizes control over his body again and collapses to the floor.

“Julia...” he gasps, “you need to--” A fresh attack from Azrael sends a shock through him and strangle his words in agony.

“Jesus! What happened?!”

 _Lexington?_ What is she doing here? Jules must not have heard her come in under all the chaos but God, is it good she's here.

Lexington bolts to Joshua's side and rests a hand on his shaking back then snaps her head around to stare at Jules on the couch, her face a mixture of anger and confusion and _fear._ “Azrael’s had its tantrums before but nothin’ like this; what in God's name _happened,_ Jules?!”

Jules can't keep herself from shaking either and just draws her arms closer around her body, focus riveted on Joshua.

Lexington growls and jumps back up, dashing out of the room. “I got some holy oil in here somewhere, we need t’put more sigils on 'im to keep that thing contained. Jules, yer gonna help me, unnerstan’?”

When she comes back, a massive jug of oil in her arms and white cloths thrown over her shoulder, Jules is gone, the front door of the house wide open.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: attempted suicide

It's not even her own house Jules drifts back to. It's Lexington's she's called home ever since coming to New Zion, shunned by her family and begging for help on Lexington’s doorstep. Not that anyone but Jules is ever really there, with Lexington spending her nights with Joshua, but it’s still not... _hers._ Nothing is hers, she has nothing, she _is_ nothing.

Jules locks the door behind her and sinks to the floor. She can't think. She can't speak. She can't breathe. All this time-- everything she'd believed for the last nine months-- it’s all gone. Wasted. Ripped away from her in _seconds._ All she'd done to turn herself around...all for nothing.

So why bother?

Bottles she long neglected find their way back into her hands, syringes and inhalers retrieved from the box she keeps under her bed, _just in case,_ and as she ties off her arm the part of her that _Azrael_ fed starts to scold her; look how far she's come, she was _clean_ for the first time in years, falling back on her old habits will ruin-- it's silenced easily enough with the first three needles.

Still, Jules can't fully shake the nagging voice that reminds her she _knows_ better-- do chems, fine, drink herself into a coma, fine, but _don't combine the two,_ not this much, she'll--

She'll what? Kill herself? Hasn't yet. Either her father's immortality ritual had kept her breathing or she's built up enough resistance to her poisons of choice that they can't do her in. She doesn't honestly know if the ritual worked or not, if she _actually_ can't die; Silas had said it did so she believed him, but it's useless to her now, she won't lead the family, she won't be a vessel for _the Lord's will,_ none of it _fucking_ matters anymore.

Somewhere in the haze of chems and booze Jules draws her pocketknife, presses it against the skin of her left forearm; the tip knicks it just enough to sting and draw a pindrop of blood on her wrist. Well, Silas. Time to see if your scheme worked at all.

She screws her eyes shut and _slices:_ once, twice, wrist to elbow, sucking in a sharp breath through gritted teeth with each. Her head spins and she can hear her racing heartbeat, feel it thump-thump-thumping in her ears; shaking, she peeks one eye open and slowly lifts her arm to survey the damage. It's drenched in crimson, dripping down her hand, off her fingers onto the floor, but just as quickly as she opened her veins they stitch themselves closed again, before her very eyes. The bleeding stops, leaving angry red welts and scabs where the wounds once were.

No, this has to be the chems. She tries again, another cut between the two, watching this time to make sure she’s not hallucinating what she just saw. The same scene plays out, the wound sealing itself within seconds, leaving behind only jagged scabs and deep red stains. She tries again, and again, and again until her hands are covered in blood, her breathing faster and faster in panic, but nothing changes but the number of lines. Jules runs a finger over them-- still warm to the touch, blood still sticky and drying, but no doubt they've healed.

God _damn_ it.

Jules slumps backwards on the couch and reaches for a new liquor bottle, draining half of it in one go. What kind of personal hell is this?! God! She can't live like this, there's no _reason_ for her to, nowhere she can go, no one to turn to; she has no more options, not even _death_ now, so what the hell is she supposed to do?!

Another bottle and a half later-- why not, it's not like _alcohol poisoning_ can do her in either-- accompanied by another few syringes and Jules can't keep her eyes open any longer. She passes out on Lexington's couch, one arm dangling to the floor, the other curled around a jug that previously held the strongest moonshine New Zion's underground had to offer.

Her dreams are nothing but bitter cold and pitch black with howling wind and the unshakable feeling _someone_ stands right over her shoulder, just about to grab her hair with its clawed hand, hissing more condemnation at her as she tries to get away.

 _“You can't outrun me, Julia, I'll always be here, waiting for you._ ”

_“They'll never forgive what you've done. You have nothing left. I would say you should just kill yourself now, but it looks like you can't even do that right.”_

_“You thought you could make something of yourself? That anyone would ever be proud of you?_ **_Pathetic._ ** _When I look at you I see a pathetic scrap of waste paper, a_ **_hole_ ** _for others to dump their pleasure into, it’s all you'll_ **_ever_ ** _be, you stupid, delusional piece of--”_

The dream goes silent.

BANGBANGBANGBANG

“Jules?”

The noise, however distant it feels, drags Jules out of her drunken sleep. Someone pounding on the door, calling her name...at this hour?

BANGBANGBANGBANG

“Jules! Open th’ damn door, Jules!”

Lexington. Of course.

Jules groggily pushes herself up and gathers herself-- she's still dressed, still clutching an empty bottle...still got dried blood on her arm. Shit, shit shit shit, Lexington can't see this--

She bolts to the bathroom and locks the door, turns on the sink and starts rummaging through Lexington's cabinets for bandages; she's been with Joshua enough there have to be some here, right? The front door to the house opens with a SLAM! and Lexington's voice follows.

“Jules? Jules, we're worried 'bout you, answer me!”

“Bathroom,” she croaks out, scrubbing her arm clean and hastily wrapping it in gauze. “One second.”

Lexington knocks, forceful as ever, on the bathroom door. “C’mon, Jules, just--”

There, it's a messy bandage job but it'll have to work. Let Lexington think what she thinks, as long as Jules’ immortality is kept secret.

She opens the door, leaning against it for support and not entirely faking it. “Hey, Lex.”

Lex throws her arms around her, pulls her from the bathroom into the hallway and into the tightest hug Jules has ever had. “Thank th’ Lord, I smelled th’ liquor an’-- an’ all the _blood_ an’ saw th’ needles-- thought I was too late but thank God, _thank God_ yer alright, Jules.”

Sure. Thank God, if that's what she wants to do; Jules herself won't be. She stays rigid in Lex's embrace, numbness settled in, leaving her dazed.

Lex pulls away, her eyes red and trembling, and takes her hands. “Tell me what happened, Jules. Joshua tol’ me part a’ it but...”

Jules shakes her head.

“Please, Jules. Jus’ talk t’me.”

She takes a deep breath and her shoulders slump. “Lex...”

“C’mon.” Lex pulls her over to the couch, sits her down as she eyes the empty bottles and syringes and dried blotches of blood.

“I’ll clean it up.”

“That’s not--” Lex shakes her head and shoves a cool bottle of water at Jules. “Here. Drink.”

For only the second time since they met-- since Jules woke up in a bathtub of blood and saw the smirking face of her resurrector welcoming her back to life after the Legion burned her alive-- Lex can barely hold herself together. Jules remembers the horror on her face years before, when Vulpes Inculta betrayed the two of them to the Legion and turned Lex into her own worst nightmare, his first command for her to be the death of the one friend she’d managed to make and keep. Lex watched her die before, her blood still dripping from sharp, new fangs. Now her godblood’s spilled again, Lex on the verge of falling apart, but this time through no one's fault but her own.

She sips at the water, staring at the stained floor.

Lex inches closer on the couch, reaching out a hand but pulling it back. “What happened, Jules?” She keeps her voice quiet, softer than Jules had thought it capable of. Brimming tears in Lex's eyes match those in her own.

“Azrael,” she rasps, finally. “He-- it started visiting me. Talking to me. It told me everything I wanted to hear. It said...it said I could save people. It said I could save my _mother,_ if I just--” She draws her knees to her chest and lowers her gaze. “If I killed him, I could do it. I could save everyone. If I just...”

Jules sighs and buries her face in her shaking hands. “You should just kill me now, Lex. If anyone could do it, it’d be you. Don’t even have to risk missing the mark.” She runs her thumb along the pale scar on her neck, all that’s left of the death sentence Vulpes Inculta handed down years ago. “Just let me die so this can’t happen again.”

Lex throws her arms around her again-- her embrace is strong and tight and icy cold, not like Azrael’s warm and gentle hugs in the dreams, but it’s _real._

“It’s not yer fault,” she chokes out, “it’s not yer fault, Jules, don’t you _ever_ blame yerself for what Azrael’s done. It’s a _demon,_ one’a th’ worst there is, all the blame is on _it._ Not you.”

Jules never saw Lex upset enough to cry, either. Slowly, she relaxes and leans into the embrace, clinging tighter, curling her fingers into Lex’s coat and releasing the sobs she’s held back.

“I want my mom, Lex,” she mumbles through tears into Lex's collar. “I wanna see my mom.”

“I know,” Lex says softly, “I know y’do. But yer my friend an’ I’ll be damned-- I’ll be _more_ damned if I let Azrael take you away.” She holds her tighter as her own throat chokes up. “‘Sides, if I killed you, I’d hafta resurrect you again, an’ we both remember what a pain in th’ ass that was las’ time, yeah?”

She tries to force a little laugh and Jules lets herself join in. “Yeah. Pain in the ass sounds right. No legionaries for you to bleed dry this time, either.”

They sigh and relax a little, but neither lets go. “I’m gonna stay here for a lil while,” Lex says, “make sure yer okay. Don’t wanna leave you all alone, y’know.” Jules can hear the traces of levity she’s trying to put in her words but they’re undercut by a waver. It’s _not_ okay, won’t be for a long time, but at least...at least someone’s trying to make it better.

Jules nods and gives one more squeeze before letting go. “Thank you.”

“Joshua’ll want t’know how yer doin’, too.”

Her blood runs cold. She can’t talk to Joshua-- talking to Joshua means _Azrael_ can hear, means getting _close_ to it again. “I don’t want to see him.”

Lex frowns and tilts her head, just for a moment, but nods anyway. “Suppose that’s only t’be expected. Can’t imagine talkin’ t’ him after what happened would be easy fer you.” She starts to stand up. “Can I tell ‘im yer alive, at least? That we’re talkin’ again?”

Jules hesitates, but nods. “I just don’t want to see him. I can’t...I can’t be near it again.”

“You don’ have t’worry ‘bout that, Jules. That thing ain’t comin’ near you or anyone else again.” Lex pushes herself off the couch and gives a small smile. “In th’ meantime I’m gonna make sure yer taken care of, startin’ with a li’l supper. I may not be able t’eat normal food no more but I’m still a damn good cook, if I do say so m’self. You stay right there, I’ll bring you somethin’.”

Jules smiles back, faint but genuine. “Thank you, Lex. I’m...I’m really glad you’re here.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares.

_“Well done, child,” Azrael coos, “you've done so well.”_

_Jules can't stop her hands from shaking. Joshua's blood drips off them into the pool draining from his throat, blue eyes dimming and fading with his breath until finally they're a cold, flat brown and his chest stills._

_This is what she wanted. The knots in her stomach, the raw nerve her body's become, her horror at her actions, none of it should be here; she_ wanted _this. It's all for the greater good. She can save Lexington-- she can save her_ mother _now, with Azrael's help._

_Free of his host, Azrael drifts closer to her, resting a spectral hand on her cheek; she closes her eyes and leans into it._

_“Are you ready?”_

_She takes a deep breath and nods, once._

_“Don’t be afraid, Julia. Remember, I love you.”_

_A sudden rush of warmth, like that from a hot drink, floods her system, a welcome embrace more real and tangible than any of Azrael's in her dreams. Her racing heart slows, she opens her eyes and allows herself a sigh and a small smile, Azrael purring reassurances in her ears. His angelic power courses through her veins; not even embracing her godhood felt this good, this_ strong.

_“Thank you, Julia.”_

_The heat spikes higher and higher, growing quickly from safety to discomfort to white hot, searing pain, all over every inch of her skin, the contrast between sitting by a fire and jumping headfirst into it. Jules bites back cries of pain until she finds herself doubled over in front of Joshua's corpse, gasping for breath and staring wide-eyed at her hands._

_“Az-- Azrael-- what's happening--”_

_“It's alright. Everything is going according to plan.”_

_“No, something's wrong, I know--” Jules crumples to the floor as more flames sear across her skin. “Help me, Azrael,_ please, _help me--”_

 _“All according to plan, Julia.” He's in her mind, inhabiting her body with her, she can_ feel it. _“My plan, at least.”_

 _Jules watches as she stops shaking. Pushes herself up off the floor. Stands. Looks down at Joshua's body and_ laughs _\-- none of it of her own volition. She tries to reach up and rub her forehead; instead she just sees her hands lift up to eye level and turn over, stroke her face, her hair as Azrael examines its new vessel through her eyes._

 _“This is_ delightful, _” her voice says with another little giggle. “You know I've never had a divine vessel before?”_

 _“What have you_ done?!” _Jules screams but no sound comes from her mouth-- she knows the answer full well anyway._

 _Azrael shakes its head--_ her _head-- and picks up the knife she used to cut Joshua's throat. “Exactly what we agreed to. I told you we'd be together forever, didn't I?”_

 _“But you-- you said I'd have control! You said I could resist, like Joshua, not that I'd-- not that I'd be_ trapped! _”_

 _Azrael laughs again and sheaths the knife. “Julia, you ignorant slut.” It stretches and cracks her neck, one side to the other. “You really fell for it, didn’t you? All that talk about love, and family, and being the father you deserved...well, I suppose you_ do _deserve a demon after everything you’ve done, don’t you?”_

_It pauses to admire itself in a shattered mirror-- her eyes now the same electric blue Joshua’s once were, blood staining her hands and her face._

_“I’ve never possessed a_ god _before. Can’t wait to see what_ this _meat suit can do-- hope you’re excited, Julia, because we’re going to have_ so much fun _together.”_

_Azrael laughs and laughs and laughs; the louder Jules screams to be let out the more hysterical it gets until she can barely hear her own thoughts anymore, drowned out by the demon with her own voice--_

Jules jolts awake with a shriek, clutching at her blankets, heart racing; no, no, no, this isn’t real, it’s gone, it’s over, it can’t hurt her again, no, no, no, none of that is believable outside the light of day, not here, not now alone in the middle of the night, it’ll find her, it’ll _find_ her, she can’t run from it for long and it’ll catch her and--

“It’s okay, Jules.” Lex’s voice comes from the chair beside her bed, moonlight reflecting off her eyes like it would off an animal’s. Predatory, almost, like they were before. “You wanna tell me ‘bout it?”

“No,” Jules rasps.

_Darkness, darkness her light spells can't even pierce, it’s dark and burning hot, all alone no matter how much she cries in her lost child's voice, crying for her mother to come save her but it's too late, she's already gone and the only thing she has left is the hot demon breath on her neck, the claws raking one by one down her spine like a xylophone._

Okay. Today's the day. Gotta go back to work, gotta have _some kind_ of routine again instead of just watching the hands on the clock slowly spin round. It's been a week, anyway, more than enough time _languishing_ in bed and _wallowing_ in her own sadness.

Lex is on a quick run to the market, bringing back more supplies for meals as Jules’ pantry had been in a sad state when she arrived. But Jules takes a deep breath, steels her face in the mirror. She'll meet Lex there, in the market, before showing her she's fine enough to go back to normal.

At least it's a nice day out. Not a cloud in the bright blue sky.

Lex's neighbors are out tending their gardens and playing with their kids and Jules can _feel their eyes on her, watching her every movement,_ but it's fine. Everything's fine, they're just...they're just looking at her, weird to see someone come out of that house after it being quiet so long, huh. They're just looking at her with _their own_ eyes, Azrael isn't here, it can't see her.

But what if it _can_ see her. What if it knows where she is-- it _does_ know where she is how could it not?! How many times has it been to Lex's house, of course it knows she's there! And now she's out in the open, outside of the warding sigils like some kind of maniac?! Oh, she's just _asking_ for punishment now, she's a beacon _drawing_ that thing to herself out here! One step further--

Jules doesn't even realize she's collapsed until her fingers are clawing into the dirt, her knees stinging with the fall. Oh God they can see her, they _know_ how weak and terrified she is, that thing is watching her, _constantly_ watching her through her neighbors’ eyes--

“Jules?” Lex's voice comes coupled with a gentle hand on her back-- that Jules immediately bucks off. Wild eyes stare up into dark black sunglasses under a wide-brimmed hat, casting Lex’s expression in shadow.

“Don't _touch_ me,” she rasps.

“Sorry.” Lex kneels down beside her, folding her gloved hands in her lap. “What happened?”

Jules shakes her head. “They can still see me. It's still spying on me, I know it. I was stupid, I thought I could leave the house but it can see me out here, I know it can.”

“Oh, no.” Lex stands and offers a hand to her. “C’mon. Let's get you back inside. I'll make some tea fer you an’ you can tell me ‘bout it.”

_She's face to face with herself, the other her in the tight black skirt and low-cut blouse she wore when trying to pass herself off as the heir to the Bishop family. Jules-- the real Jules, not the one with the demon's eyes-- huddles on the ground before her doppelganger, shivering in what scraps of fabric barely pass for a bra and skirt, looking up through tears at the contemptful sneer on her own face._

_“Azrael, please,” she whispers, “just let me go. Don't do this,_ please. _”_

 _Azrael laughs and shakes its head. “This is what you wanted, isn't it? Didn't you_ dream _of mattering to someone for longer than the five minutes they have you on your back before they discard you like the broken tool you are?”_

_“That's not true,” Jules whispers, more to convince herself than to argue. “It's not true, that's not what I am, that's not true...”_

_Azrael laughs. A deep, rumbling chuckle as it tilts her face up towards its. “Tell yourself that all you like, but I know you, better than you know yourself.”_

_“That's not TRUE!” A sudden burst of fury seizes her and she slaps Azrael's hand away, snarling as she scrambles backwards and up on her feet. “All you ever did was lie to me, why would you stop now?”_

_Azrael brushes the red welts on its face. “I have no reason to keep up a facade. Why would I bother?” With a wave of its hand it sends her flying; she lands with a loud CRACK! but before she can get up Azrael's heel presses into her neck, not enough to choke her-- just enough to make breathing a struggle._

_“Don't try that again,” it spits. “I can cause you pain like you've never even imagined.” A slow smile spreads across its face. “In fact...”_

_Jules finds herself staring into a mirror in a strange room, her reflection smiling back at her as she twirls a wicked, curved knife in her hand. She hears her own voice speak to her-- “You_ can _still feel pain, right?”-- just before Azrael plunges the blade into her stomach without so much as a flinch or a flicker in that smile. Jules howls and Azrael drags the knife further, slicing her wide open as blood gushes to the floor; its hand presses the wound as it heals itself, earning another shriek at the touch. Jules pants and gasps for breath, not that she has any control over her lungs anymore; her vision blurs and she tries to shoot a retort at Azrael but the pain, GOD, the pain cuts her off._

_Azrael examines its bloody fingers, almost bored. “Have we learned our lesson?”_

_“Fuck--_ fuck _you.”_

_“Apparently not.” It presses the blade to her skin just above the blood and gore. “Let's try again.”_

Jules bolts out of bed and stumbles her way to the bathroom, collapses in front of the toilet with huge heaving sobs that quickly turn into throwing up what little Lex had been able to get her to eat. Her hands clutch at her stomach, terrified-- all she finds is smooth skin and a long-healed scar, half a decade old at this point. No gash from Azrael's knife. No fresh, warm blood draining from an open wound. She spits out more bile and flushes, still shaking.

“You alright, Jules?” Lex's voice comes from the doorway, just beyond the threshold. “Not pregnant, are y’ now?” Her tone is half joking but the glare Jules shoots her wipes any semblance of humor away. She sighs and wets a cloth in the sink, passing it over as she sits on the tile floor.

“It tried-- it tried to kill me.” Jules balls her fists, resting her forehead on cool porcelain. “It took a knife--” She drags one fist in the path Azrael's blade followed across her body. “I swear it felt real, Lex. I thought I was dying.”

“Well, far’s I know, yer still here.”

“Yeah.” She scoffs. “Sure am.”

Lex waits, silent for a moment, before she speaks again. “Y’know, it’s been a couple weeks or so. Joshua sent a message over t’day. Says he wants t’talk t’you ‘bout--”

“No!” Jules coughs again. “He’s the last person I want to see right now.” Well, _Azrael’s_ the last person she wants to see, but being in the same room as Joshua is close enough to that thing. “Tell him I said that.”

_Azrael doesn't let her have control, never; why would it? So when Jules finds herself blinking awake, pulling blankets around herself with no sign of Azrael she's caught between relief-- it was a bad dream, that's all, she's alright-- and panic-- it wouldn't have just abandoned her and left her alive like this. It has to be up to something._

_A sudden wave of nausea rushes over her and she bolts to the bathroom to throw up whatever it was she'd eaten the night before. The stomach flu, not uncommon in New Zion this time of year, or food poisoning, not surprising with her cooking--_

_“Do you know what nephilim are, Julia?” Azrael's voice creeps up on her like a snake, unwelcome and supremely self-satisfied. “They’re the offspring of humans and angels with the unique power to house beings such as myself without being killed immediately. So few of them inhabit the world...but you know what's even more rare? The offspring of an angel, a human...and a_ god. _”_

_She knows exactly why it's let her have control._

_“What--” Jules coughs up another round of vomit. “What have you done?”_

_“Try 'who.’” It laughs and she feels it starting to take over again. “And the answer to that is, well...everyone. I had to ensure the creation of my vessel would succeed, you understand.”_

_Jules digs her fingers into her hair, barely able to breathe, barely able to_ think _. “You-- you--”_

 _“If my math is right,” Azrael continues, “the father_ should _be...that trader you had such a fondness for before. The one from the south, oh, what was his name.”_

 _Javier. No, it got Javier involved in its bullshit, GOD_ FUCKING _DAMN IT_ . _“I'm going-- to kill you--”_

 _Azrael laughs again. “Don't strain yourself too much, not now. I don't want_ my child _harmed.”_

_The nine months pass with a mere blink but Jules knows she's trapped helpless the entire time, unable to do anything but watch. But the next time she's piloting her own body she knows why when she feels the labor pains and Azrael is nowhere to be heard._

_“Coward,” she spits, “_ you _wanted this child but you don't even have the courage to deliver it? Making me do that for you too?” She gasps as another contraction comes coupled with white hot, searing pain in her chest from Azrael, no answer from it but a faint chuckle._

Jules wakes up shaking and in a cold sweat, but manages to stifle a scream before Lex hears her from outside in the living room-- well, hears her _more._ God, is that-- is that what it _wanted?_ To use her body as-- as an _incubator_ for a _vessel_ for it to possess? Oh God oh God oh God oh God she's seen this happen before; a girl named Lottie back in Nipton, she’d gotten possessed and the demon was so cocky and self-absorbed it bragged about itself to any of the other girls who would listen; it wanted a proper vessel too, and it only took a month before--

She's not getting back to sleep tonight. As quietly as she can, Jules slips out of bed and retrieves her chem stash. An inhaler or two of jet should do for now. Just keep her awake. Another in the morning, maybe something else to ease her nerves, help her get back in--

“Miz McAllister?”

Jules jumps and the inhaler drops from her hand to the floor with a clatter. What-- why is Cora in her house, what's --

She's not at the house. Sounds of humming motors and clanking tools slowly fill her ears; her vision sharpens and reveals her workbench before her, covered in clutter, and just beyond it Cora with her hair pulled back from her wide eyes in a red kerchief, holding rolled-up blueprints in her arms.

“Oh...hello,” Jules offers weakly.

Cora sets the blueprints down and tiptoes over to her. “Miz McAllist-- Jules. Is everything...alright?”

“I'm fine.” Jules shuffles backwards, her right hand flying to her left arm; thankfully her jacket sleeves cover the scars.

“You don't look so good.” Cora drags a chair over with her foot and offers it with a stern stare. “Sit down, tell me what's goin’ on.”

“It's nothing.”

“Nothin’?” Cora's eyes narrow. “You’ve been here five hours tinkerin’ away on the same busted radio set, like you have every day for a _week,_ every time I passed by I've seen you takin’ another puff off an inhaler, I just caught you starin’ at the wall like it was the most fascinatin’ thing you've ever seen, and you mean to tell me nothin’s wrong?”

“Yes!” Jules waves her hand and hurls the chair into the far wall. “It's none of your business what I'm doing here and it's _less_ than none of your business what I do at home!”

“I’m _worried_ about you, we all are! How could we _not_ be, seein’ you go down that same path you helped get us off of?”

God, why's she so _nosy?!_ Why are _all_ of them prying into her life?! Her workers may have come from the same past as her, from countless different Niptons all over the wasteland, but none of them, _none of them,_ could _possibly_ know what she's been through now!

Cora's face hardens. “Nothin’ to say for yourself?”

Jules could've sworn she just chewed her out. The insubordination--

“Listen,” she continues, “Whatever it is, you need some time off. I can't tell you to leave. I'm not your boss. But I know sickness when I see it. If you wanna go home and rest, I can run things 'round here. Don't worry.”

Jules draws herself up as tall as she can make herself-- still a couple inches shorter than Cora. “You're right. You're _not_ my boss.” Out of spite she finishes the inhaler in her hand, eyes locked with Cora's. “I don't have to listen to you.”

“Sure, you don't have to listen to me, but it might be a good idea.”

That's not Cora's voice.

Jules blinks at the man in front of her, his back turned as he pulls up his pants. Three inhalers clink in her hand, bright orange instead of the usual red. “What?”

“I know you know your way around jet, but that right there, that's powerful shit. Knock you on your ass right quick.”

She drops the inhalers in her messenger bag and slowly starts fixing her clothes. “Rocket fuel?”

“What you asked for, ain't it?” He turns back around and winks. “What you _paid_ for, at least.”

“I...yeah. Thanks.” God her head's pounding, needs to get home quick before Lex notices (you idiot Lex already knows you're gone you can't hide from her you can't hide from _anything_ ).

“Thank _you._ ” He gives her a smile. “See you next week.”

 _Fire and blood and ash, destruction at her own hands in Azrael's name and all Jules can do is watch as New Vegas New Reno New Zion all burn before her, family drained of their power hanging on crosses heads on pikes lashed to stakes, friends impaled with holy knives torn in half bleeding out on stained asphalt, screams and wails and the acrid smell of burning flesh all of it thanks to Azrael-- thanks to_ her-- _and all that_ thing _does is perch on a balcony high above the city with a drink in its hand and a smile on its face._

One hit when she wakes up. One as she steels herself to go outside. An inhaler at the workshop before Cora shoos her out again, another hit when she gets home. Repeat.

A hit when she wakes. As she stumbles to work. As she sinks onto a barstool in Gentile Zion, as she comes to in a stranger's bed. Repeat.

Chems at daybreak (is she even sleeping anymore?), more when it's brightest out as she burrows back into the darkness of her covers, at nightfall, at midnight when she's too terrified to sleep. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Lex's nose wrinkles when Jules stumbles in, in last night's clothes and makeup with her hair all a mess, reeking of liquor and sweat, cigarettes and cheap cologne-- even Jules’ human senses know that. “You don't have t’keep doin’ this, Jules.”

“Yeah, but...I'm gonna.” Jules spins around lazily, inhalers and syringes clinking out of her jacket pockets as she sways her way to her room, any words Lex says bouncing off deaf ears. She just wants to be numb. Doesn't want to feel _things_ anymore, what's the point of it if everythin’s just gonna get taken away? Fuck it. Feelin’ nothin’ is better'n goin’ through any of that _shit_. Couldn't handle it. Not again.

Just as Jules collapses on her bed she thinks she hears Lex’s voice: “You're wrong-- that's _not_ better, Jules” Of course she's sayin’ she's wrong. Wouldn't expect anythin’ less.

_“Follow me, Mom, hurry!”_

_Jules reaches a hand behind her, fighting the urge to look back-- if she turns her mother is damned forever, she'll never see her again. Demons’ breath hits their heels; she can hear Eliza's panicked gasps, feel her fingers brush her hand and Jules seizes on them, holding onto her mother with an iron grip._

_They bolt through the gate to the surface and throw themselves against its heavy metal doors, pushing with all their might until the doors slam with a CLANG right in a monstrous demon’s face. Claws scratch and gouge on the other side but the doors hold solid. Eliza and Jules both sink to their knees, panting, and Jules crawls her way over to her mother and throws her arms around her_

_She'd almost forgotten what her mother's face looked like: her delicate features, her kind, warm brown eyes, the rosy cheeks that cancer had stolen away in the last year of Eliza's life before it took that too. “I missed you so much, Mom. After you died I-- I just-- I was so lost, I couldn't...”_

_“Shh, it's alright, sweetheart.” Eliza's voice chokes with tears. “We're okay. You saved me, I'm here now.”_

_“I’m sorry, I tried to find a way to cure you--”_

_“I know you did.” Eliza strokes her daughter's hair. “You did the best you could. Thank you, my child.”_

_No._

_Jules stiffens as her blood runs cold. No no no, no, her mother never called her that, only one person--_

_Eliza's embrace tightens to the point of malice, her gentle words transforming into a low, rumbling laugh; she smells of ash and blood and Jules yanks herself away, looking up into no longer her mother's face...but Azrael’s._

_It bares its teeth in a wicked smile. “I'm here, Julia,” it purrs, mocking, “I'll always be here for you.”_

With a deep breath Jules finishes off her inhaler of jet. She'll have to get some more soon. Plenty of dealers in the gentile areas of New Zion but the problem is getting it past Lex. She’s not at the house as often anymore, gradually easing away after spending weeks and weeks constantly at Jules’ side. But she's still spending nights there, using the excuse of cooking a good meal to come over and seeing Jules off to bed-- which could be anywhere from immediately after dinner to almost sunrise, depending on how the day's gone.

Sneaking out and buying the chems isn't an issue; she just keeps her eyes to the ground and walks as fast as she dares to the dingy bars she knows dealers frequent. Lex probably knows about the stash under her bed; she'll have to move it when she gets home. Why Lex hasn't already done something about it is beyond her.

Jules hands over the caps and tucks new inhalers into her jacket, using a whole one on her way home. Screaming herself awake every night isn't exactly conducive to _staying_ awake all day but if her working days in Nipton taught her anything it was just how long she could run on jet and stale pre-war food. She was lucky to get six hours of shut-eye then; on a good night now she gets two, maybe three-- even when she collapses in bed early from exhaustion sleep doesn't come, or when it does the nightmares just remind her of why she didn't want it to.

Lex still isn't back when Jules arrives home so she takes the opportunity to move her chem stash, from under the bed to...to the back corner of the closet; it's the best she's got for now. One last hit from the inhaler as she flops backwards onto her bed. There's no good hiding spots for illicit substances in Lex's own house, she'll find them eventually but they'll cross that bridge when they come to it.

...She should talk to her dad. Silas has been distant at best since Jules left New Reno but isn't part of that on her, too? Besides, getting out of New Zion for a bit would probably help, and Silas taught her to teleport so...why not?

Jules hoists herself up and scrawls a note on some scrap paper for Lex: “VISITING SILAS-- BE BACK IN A COUPLE DAYS. PROMISE.”

Lex won't be thrilled about that, but she can get over it.

Jules takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and with a wave of her hand the dead silence of Lex's house fades into the early evening bustle of New Reno’s Shark Club. The air hangs heavy with spilled liquor and cigarette smoke, the familiar clink of caps and casino chips. Jules sighs, relaxes and opens her eyes. Much more comfortable than New Zion already.

“Evening, Miss Bishop.” A man’s voice comes from beside her at the bar and she turns to see it belongs to one of her father's lieutenants-- Gideon, if she remembers his name right. He smiles and gestures at the empty seat next to him. “It's been a while. Can I get you something to drink?”

She shakes her head and shuffles backwards. “Is my father here?”

“Certainly.” He nods towards a set of heavy wood doors at the back of the casino. “I'm sure he'll be happy to see you.”

Jules nods back and makes her way towards the doors. In her worn jacket and skirt she's clearly the worst dressed in the casino, which wouldn't bother her if she wasn't immediately greeted in Silas’ private rooms by Gideon's sister as she hurls a suited man through the open office door into the hallway and pins him against the wall with a wickedly clawed spectral hand that only tightens its grip around his neck as she approaches in her red-soled heels and, in the same swift motion, looks Jules up and down with a dismissive eye as she enters.

“Welcome back, Miss Bishop,” Iris says, not quite sneering but with clear distaste in her words. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to see my father.” Jules tries to make herself seem as confident as she doesn't feel. Iris and Gideon never liked her, felt she was some kind of interloper, but Gideon, at least, pretended otherwise.

“Hm.” Iris examines her again and waves her in with her free hand. “Go on.” Her eyes, like her brother's had been out on the casino floor and like Lex's back home, rivet on Jules like a predator’s. But, Jules realizes now, Lex's are protective, a mother bear defending her cubs. The twins’ are hunting-- the only thing keeping Jules off limits is her name.

Jules nods and slips past her through to Silas’ office, shutting the door behind her and blocking out the sound of the choking man outside. Silas himself sits with his hands steepled on his desk, head bowed examining some papers before he looks up at Jules’ footsteps. His face instantly brightens as he waves her over and a chair slides out for her to sit in.

“Hey, Julesy! Been a while, huh?”

“Sure has.” She sits across from him, folding her hands in her lap. “How're...things?”

Silas scowls and leans back in his chair. “Well I'm guessin’ you saw that little clash outside. Some fucker from what’s left'a the Wrights sent over to spy on us, find an openin’ for revenge for killin’ their boss.” He rubs a hand over his eyes. “Meanwhile the fuckin’ Morenos are tryin’ to edge in on your stepmom’s family's business with the energy weapons, we got some fucks callin’ themselves the Brotherhood of Steel breathin’ down our necks, it's just a mess.” He coughs and looks up at her with half a smile. “Nothin’ your old man can't handle, though. What brings you here, Julesy?”

Jules freezes. His eyes aren't the same, they're still the same deep blue as hers, but the rest of him-- his face, his hair, his clothes, everything-- is Azrael. Oh God she should have known this was a bad idea-- she swears she sees his eyes flicker bright blue for just a moment-- why did she come here?!

“I, uh,” she starts, fidgeting with her sleeves. “I got bored. You know. Wanted to come see the family. New Zion is...great, but. Can't compare to Reno.”

“Damn right it can't.” Silas’ smile widens. “Biggest little city in the world.”

_Azrael it's Azrael it's Azrael it's Azrael-- is that its metallic rasp she hears under Silas’ accent?-- it's Azrael it's AZRAEL_

“Now if only the rest’a the families would just fall in line...they got loose when my pops died, y’see.” He smirks. “Not the god one, a’course, my mama's husband.”

_The smell of fire and blood, the sizzling holy water as it hits infernal skin, hissing words in a language she's never heard--_

Silas frowns and scoots his chair closer to the desk. “You okay, babygirl?”

“I'm fine,” Jules squeaks out with a nod as she pushes her chair away. “I just...had to leave New Zion for a bit. Those Mormons, you know. Stifling.” She forces a weak laugh, but Silas just nods.

“You know you're always welcome here, right?” He reaches his hand out, offering to take hers. “I'm your dad, Jules, I'm--”

_“--the father you should have had. The father you deserved. What has Silas done for you? Nothing. But I will.”_

Jules jerks away and bolts up, heading for the door. “I'm sorry-- I just remembered-- I need to go, I'm sorry--”

“Jules, wait--”

With a wave of her hand she's gone before Silas finishes his sentence.

Jules kneels on the floor in Lex's living room, sore and panting. Forgot how much energy teleportation magic takes out of her. By the sunset outside she wasn't gone more than thirty minutes; Lex hasn't even arrived back yet but she's surely on her way. Jules pushes herself to her feet and swipes the note off the table, crumpling it before throwing it away. Should've just stayed home.

 _With a sputtering gasp Silas collapses in front of her. Jules’ wails and screams ricochet harmlessly off Azrael’s ears as it bathes her hands in her father’s blood, his divine power radiating off his dying body and Azrael laps it up. He shouldn't be able to die; he always said he was immortal he made_ her _immortal, how-- how has Azrael_ done _this?_

 _One by one, Azrael licks the blood off its vessel’s fingers. “So much godblood...so much_ power. _” It turns towards the twins behind it and waves a hand dismissively. “Get rid of it. We're finished here.”_

_The divine power from Silas pulses through Jules’ veins but she can't tap into it, no matter how hard she tries; at every turn Azrael cuts her off. “Why? Why are you doing this?!”_

_“It's what you wanted, isn't it? You brought this on yourself.”_

_It lifts something up to eye level so she can get a good look at it: a long, heavy wooden stake, holy energy flowing from it. Her heart plummets as Azrael laughs. “Just one last problem to take care of.”_

_No, not Lex, not Lex no, no, no, no no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO--_

The empty inhaler rolls to the floor from Jules’ hand. She stares up at the ceiling, a sigh easing into a giggle. How long has she been awake? Does it even matter anymore? She's gone through her jet pretty fast, gonna have to go find more as if that'd be a problem, those chem slingers _love_ her these days.

Doesn't remember having used this much at once before-- maybe back in Nipton, maybe she forgot thanks to that _ffffffffffffucking_ bullet but...whatever, not important. She can't die from an overdose. Tried that already.

The room vibrates around her-- edges crackling, shifting only to snap back into place almost immediately; good, new inhaler's kicking in, lethargy from the crash overtaken by spikes of energy. Different from before though, probably thanks to exhaustion but instead of giving her a surge to overcome it's just keeping her upright at this point, yeah that's _definitely_ familiar from Nipton though even then she wasn't nearly this tired, this one aches to her bones but she can't sleep, she _can't sleep,_ if she sleeps then-- no, she just won't sleep instead of letting it near her again, it'll be fine this is fine everything is fine.

“Jules.”

She looks up to see Lex's face-- disappointed?-- looking down at her. “Oh. Hi, Lex.” She tries to give her a friendly smile but apparently it's not working.

“How much have you had?” Lex's pink hair POPS against the room's walls, Jules can practically see each individual strand and it's _fascinating._

“A little.” She sweeps inhalers under the couch she's leaning against. Lex notices. “But I gotta stay awake y’know. Long as I stay awake everything is okay, y’know.”

Lex frowns. “How long's it been since y’slept?”

“Dunno...couple days. Few days. Fine though, it's fine!” Have Lex's fangs always been so _pointy?_ So little. So cute. Tiny pokey things. Jules stifles more giggles.

Lex scoffs. “It's ‘fine’ that yer slammin’ back more chems’n a New Reno junkie--”

“Don't talk 'bout Reno like that, Lex!” Jules drags herself off the floor, leaning on the couch with her knees shaking as the room spins around her; _god_ standing is hard. “It's a great town. I was there just the other day, they're all doing great!”

She tries to take a step towards Lex but Lex pushes her back before she can fall on her face. Instead she flops backwards onto the couch, her head rolling as she lands until she finally rests gazing up at the ceiling with a laugh.

“Gimme yer arm, Jules.” Lex sits next to her, brow furrowed and hand out expectantly. “C'mon.”

“Nah.” Jules’ heart feels like it's about to burst out of her chest but she's still so tired, she's _so_ tired. “Don't worry, Lex, I'm f-- OW!”

She snaps her head around to glare at Lex and finds her pressing a needle into the crook of her elbow. “The hell is that for?!”

“Fixer,” Lex snips back. “I'm not lettin’ you fall back down this hole.”

“Lex...” Already Jules feels her pulse slowing back to its normal rate, the exhaustion dragging her down. “I told you, I'm _fine._ ”

“Yer 'bout to drop dead!” Lex sets the empty syringe on the end table beside the couch and scoots closer to Jules. “You _need_ to sleep, Jules. Why are y'doin’ this to yerself?”

“I _can't_ sleep.” Jules rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I can’t let it find me again.”

Lex’s face falls. “Azrael...”

“If I sleep, it can get in my head.” Jules swallows her tears and hardens her words. “And I _never_ want anyone in my head again. Had enough of that for a lifetime.”

Lex nods. “We put extra wardin’ on th’ house an’ on his bandages. Ain’t no way Azrael’s gettin’ out t’ bother you no more.” She reaches out to put a gentle hand on Jules’ arm. “Joshua really wants t’ see you, Jules. He wants t’ talk t’ you about...about what happened, wants t’ check on you an’--”

“I already _told_ you, I’m _not_ talking to him!” Jules draws her knees up and hugs them to her chest. “You really think being near that thing again is going to help me? Will it make the nightmares go away?” She runs fingernails up and down her shins. “They’re horrible, Lex, every night. It possesses me. Makes me do things-- makes me kill people while I scream for it to stop, but it just _laughs_ at me. Every. Single. Night.”

Lex pauses, then nods slowly. “I thought y’ might be havin’ troubles with nightmares. ‘S why I was so late gettin’ back t’day. I got somethin’ fer you.” She digs around in her coat pocket and pulls out a small hoop wound in deep red cloth with a woven net of red thread in the middle. Hanging off it are three black leather strands, each with a white bead at the top and tied to a black and red feather.

“Called a dreamcatcher,” she says, pressing it into Jules’ hand. “It’s a charm from the Ojibwe people, came all th’ way down from Canada. Hard to find ‘round here but I hunted one down fer you. You like red, right?”

Jules nods and holds it up to the light, examining the woven web. “It’ll help?”

“Sure will. My own family had ‘em hangin’ over th’ youngins’ beds in Marysvale. Kept all sorts a’ bad dreams from ‘em.”

“And...and Azrael can’t get out again. You’re _sure_.”

“Sure as hell. An’ if I had to-- I could kill Joshua, he told me how. C’mere.” Lex pulls Jules into a tight hug. “They’re jus’ dreams, Jules. All they are. Azrael can’t hurt you, I swear.”

Jules holds her breath. Any minute now Lex is gonna turn burning hot, her eyes bright blue, and she'll laugh its low, rumbling laugh as it throws her aside…

She doesn't. Lex just stays Lex. She's real, _finally,_ something real.

When Jules finally falls asleep, she clutches the dreamcatcher in her hands and the night passes mercifully. Quiet at last, for the first time in nearly a year.


End file.
